|
"Mom"
Off the Wall
June 21, 2007
If Mom would be alive today, we would be celebrating
her 93rd birthday tomorrow.
Looking back over the years, I, like every son or
daughter, have special memories of mother. But, I realize, I'm
likely no different than anyone else.
Children just don't remember the happiest or saddest
times. Depending on where we are and what we are doing, we remember
much more. The great thing is that everyone's experiences are
unique.
Being the eldest of three, it goes without saying
that Bob and Betsy, two and five years younger respectively,
may relate their favorite stories to tell just as I have mine.
If someone would ask about one favorite story that
quickly comes to my mind about my mother, it would be her April
Fools' pranks. Each year, for example, she would come up with
a gimmick that would catch me off guard. She was good at that.
I'll never forget the time she had packed me a lunch
while I was attending Markham Elementary School in Mt. Lebanon.
In my box was typically a balanced and nutritious meal including
a dessert. That day she uncharacteristically included what I
thought was a piece of gum. Very carefully, she had wrapped a
band-aid in its place. When I discovered what she had done, I
got quite a chuckle out of her little surprise, so much that
I remember it vividly to this day.
Often when I eat my suppers, I think about how important
dinner etiquette was to my parents. In restaurants, we were never
allowed to say we were full. Rather, we were to reply upon finishing
that we were "sufficiently nourished."
Another memory that seems to surface when talking
about Mom centers on neatness. If Bob's and my shirts weren't
tucked into our pants, she would say, "That's indecent."
Boy would she be surprised to see how the youth dress today.
During my youth, my father frequently traveled to
Europe on business. I remember Mom taking us to the Pittsburgh
International Airport, going out on the tarmac where we could
see Dad board the propped planes. He would walk up to the staircase,
turn around and wave to us, and then walk up the steps to board
the airplane.
Upon departure, she would take us to the various
showcases in the old airport and teach us a little bit about
what we were seeing. It was then back to the South Hills of Pittsburgh
where she ruled the roost until Dad got home.
We then moved to Oakmont for my high school years.
There, I was pretty much a normal teenager, as normal could be
defined in those days. Everything went according to schedule
up until and after graduation. College was much the same.
Many years later, after my parents moved back east
from Oklahoma, and I from Ohio, we reestablished a close relationship.
My parents eventually resided in one of the cottages at Bethlem
Home in Ligonier. There, my mother's health would begin to decline.
But through it all, she stepped up to the plate,
so to speak, and accomplished remarkable achievements despite
her infirmities .She was busy all the time and in fact wrote
two books in addition to a collection of sing-a-song poems and
writings. One was the biography of my father's life, and the
other, her autobiography, "And Where Are You From Little
Girl?"
Even though Mom was bedridden, ailing from a tumor
in her back, her mind was lucid. In browsing through the pages
of her book, it was easy to understand the experiences she had
as an American daughter of German parents living in Germany when
Hitler was coming into power. Her descriptions of what she saw
are as vivid to me today as to those who were there at that time.
But, it wasn't just remembering someone else's perceptions; it
was reliving my mother's experiences.
Mom lived almost 20 years while confined in bed.
A week before she died, November 15, 2003, she wrote
her final poem, entitled "Farewell." I will continue
to remember her life, death and so much more.
From all of us to you, "Happy Birthday Mom!"
Paul j. volkmann
May 22, 2007
|