Monthly Archives: January 2012

What do you do when the next-door neighbor reaches down and cops a feel in broad daylight?

Whack him upside the head.  She took him out with one punch, and I had a ringside seat for the whole show.

We all knew our neighbor was a creeper but for some reason, Mom didn’t see it.  Until, one summer afternoon, he put his arm around her shoulder, reached down, and squeezed one of the girls.  Then all hell broke loose. 

The creeper found out the hard way that Mom didn’t go for that sort of thing.

She didn’t tell my Dad, and I didn’t say a word, as  I knew she was embarassed.

But she grew a foot taller in my eyes, and how I wish I told her that.

What do you do when you have perfect pitch but your kids can barely carry a tune?  

You sing all the time and encourage them to do the same.   And never, EVER criticize.  This rule only applies to children.  Adults, singing-show contestants over 18, and professional singers are fair game. 

Music was my mother’s true love.  Way before she was married, Mom sang in an orchestra with her best friend, and she loved it.  She would also  sing with her sisters, who  were gifted songwriters.  In the late 50s, they all auditioned for the Ted Mack Amateur Hour (the prelude to American Idol) and were heartbroken when they were not selected.

Mom sang her sisters’ songs all the time.  In fact, she sang these songs so often and so well that we could never tell whether she was singing famous or family songs.  That’s how good they were.

When my mother was in the very late stages of Alzheimer’s and unable to recognize anyone, we racked our brains to say or  do something – ANYTHING – that would spark her memory.  That’s when I sang one of my aunts’ songs to her.

Suddenly, she turned her head towards me, opened her brown eyes and smiled.

I guess some things are just too damn good to forget.

What do you do when you’re stuck at home with three kids? 

You teach them how to gamble to pass the time.

Mom had us on a card-shark development plan.  When we were little, she taught us Go Fish, Concentration, and Crazy 8s.  Sometimes, she even created her own card games for us, most notably “Who’s Gonna Get the Ace of Spades?” which she sang while dealing.  As we got older, the plan got more challenging – gin, solitaire, 5-card stud and blackjack — all for money, of course.

The good news?  She was always there with us at night, until of course I got old enough to babysit.  Then she was out the door.  But her love of games was passed down to us, and today, whenever we get together for family gatherings, we play.

Not for money, but for fun.

What do you do when your husband is 2 years younger than you? 

You lie and say he’s 2 years older.  Mom’s philosophy?  Shame on anyone who asks a lady her age – they deserve whatever answer they get.

My mom had a thing about getting older – she didn’t want to look her age.  She wore big hoops in her 60s and short shorts in her 70s.  She got her hair done every Saturday and was on a perpetual diet to lose 10 pounds.  Her belt matched her high-heeled shoes which matched her purse till the day she could no longer dress herself, and she never left the house without lipstick.

She was hot.

I hate to admit this, but when it comes to aging, I am my mother’s daughter.  I have 6 or 7 lipsticks on hand at any given time, start diets almost every Monday, keep my hair stylist’s number on speed dial, and believe it is a woman’s right to answer that question however she pleases.  Or not.

What do you do when you meet the man of your dreams?

Marry him quickly, preferably within 6 months.

Mom always said, “When you see something you want, get it right away because it’ll most likely be gone when you go back.”  I guess this rule applies to men too.

In the mid-fifties, she worked at the Gorham Silver Company in Providence, R.I.  As she was sorting the silver pieces, Mom – young and beautiful –  looked up to see a handsome, blonde, blue-eyed sailor looking down at her.  It was love at first sight.  The next thing she knew, they were  on their first date to a Providence Reds hockey game.

Six months later, she wed her Prince Charming and throughout their 42 years of marriage, they never fought once.

Of course, the last part of that statement is pure fiction, created by my mother.

She told everyone about their no-argue marriage, and those who were in the know would just laugh and roll their eyes.

Especially my dad. However, he knew there was absolutely no point in arguing with her about it.