Yesterday’s post Mom’s birthday – why I dreaded it was real. And real long! It was also just a brief outline. I’ve been thinking about her all day, about the fact that even a flawed diamond has multiple facets that gleam in the light.
I want to write a follow up to share all of her great qualities. It has been so many years now since I experienced this part of her, I don’t often think about it. The good side of her also had a huge impact on who I am, and there are even some ways I’m proud to say I’m very much like her.
By focusing on the positive I am in no way justifying the other things, I’m simply shifting perspective. As I’ve said before, we all tend to remember bad things. The truth is, it is more involved than just a tendency. We’re wired to remember painful things as a safety mechanism to prevent repeating mistakes that hurt us. Additionally, all of us have both good and bad characteristics, it’s the nature of humanity. Mom was no exception. Back in the day Mom was a hippy chic who wore long flowing dresses and had really long, perfectly straight blonde hair. Everyone knew her as Dallas, even though that wasn’t her given name. She carried her baby (that would be me) around in a wicker laundry basket. She had tons of hippy friends, too, and they had parties and get-togethers all the time. There was always tons of food, tons of liquor and us kids running around in varying degrees of dress and covered in dirt, but oh so happy! The smell of patchouli reminds me of those fun days and those (mostly) wonderful warm, yet incredibly quirky, people who were in and out of my life as a child. Mom is definitely where my creative genius comes from, she could make something stunning out of nothing, She was not stingy with her time, either, at least not when I was younger. She sewed my clothes and made wonderful things for me. Like the chunky wooden puzzles she made when I was very little by painting scenes from Robin Hood onto plywood. She used a saw to cut out random shapes for the pieces. I still have them both because she thought to mount them and keep them safe all these years. One year she spent months building a dollhouse from scratch. She used cardboard and duct tape (you can make anything out of duct tape!) to make the basic two story structure, and furniture for all the rooms from cardboard, as well. She used craft sticks to finish all the pieces to make them look like they were made of wood. I still have the little dresser with an attached mirror and working drawers, made from matchboxes with brass brads for knobs. The stairs had craft stick risers, and she framed tiny art prints for the wall. She used clay to make doll sized dishes, firing them in our oven, and she sewed curtains and bedding. I played with that doll house for years, and it was far better than any plastic store bought one could be. At Halloween she always made amazing costumes. Once she made a dog costume, hand sewn from brown and white fabric. I remember she used a toilet paper tube to form the nose and I thought it was hilarious. Another case of the apple didn’t fall far from the tree! For my own kids I once created Widget from Wow Wow Wubsy using a pizza box, paper towel rolls, and pink felt. Another thing she was awesome at, that I also happen to excel at, is school projects. She was always so helpful and creative when it came to making projects, whether it was a Greek amphitheater for a drama project or an induction contraption for the science fair. I have continued that tradition with my kids. Last year I taught Skylar how to paper mache’ when we created a pink piggy bank for her history project and I helped Cameron make an Egyptian diorama, complete with “stone” columns and plants.
She insisted I learn to work on my own vehicle, too. She forced me to learn to change starters and alternators. I learned to change my own oil with tears in my eyes, but I learned nonetheless. She instructed me in tune-up’s and tire changes so I’m comfortable with a spark plug gapper and a lug wrench. As a woman I’ve found knowing how to do these things, even if I choose not to, empowering. I recently changed my own side mirror and the lens cover on my brake light, and I give her credit: I was able to do those things because of her and youtube. A sexist mechanic has a harder time hoodwinking me too, since I know a thing or two!
We used to visit my grandparents in Connecticut regularly, every year if she could manage it, and we always spent some time in the city (New York). On one of those trips our hotel was far from Manhattan. I can’ remember exactly where it was, I think it may have been Brooklyn? Anyway, the subway station was several blocks from the hotel, and we found ourselves walking through this not-so-great part of the city in the middle of the night after enjoying an evening at the Blue Note. There were some shady looking characters lurking about, circling us in a threatening manner. My mom, being the bad-ass she was, picked a bottle up from the street, and broke the bottom off against a concrete pilon. Flailing the the broken bottle in the air wildly, she snarled something to the effect of “Bring it on, I dare you!” I don’t remember exactly what happened after that, but I do remember staring at Mom in wide eyed amazement once we reached our hotel safely.
When our relationship was at its rockiest, she jumped the fence into the North Florida fair with me. I can’t remember how it came about, or what I said to convince her to do it, but I will never forget her climbing into the back of an open semi and launching herself over that fence into the fair grounds. I’ve come to the conclusion that it was her way of trying to forge the gap between us when she had no clue what else to do. She did what I wanted her to do, against her better judgement (I hope), because she was trying understand me and find some bond with her crazy teen…even though she could have gotten hurt or arrested. I’m sorry, but no matter how cool I am I will never EVER do such a thing with my kids!
Although she could be difficult and harsh at times, I certainly have many scars from her mistakes, my Mother also taught me to never give up and that I am capable of doing anything I set my mind to. Thanks to her I learned to think outside the box, to see a creative path to a solution for most things, just like she did and to “fake it till you make it.”
Thanks for that, Mom.
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