| T.R | Title | User | Personal
Name | Date | Lines |
|---|
| 825.1 | Mom -- You're Everything to Me! | 37333::TTAYLOR | Traveletter is my Life! | Thu Oct 12 1989 14:17 | 11 |
| I owe everything that I am today to my mother. She has this quiet
strength. She gives me the ambition, determination and assurance
that I can be whatever I want to be.
She is the greatest woman I've ever met, and my mother's mother
(grandma Rose) runs a very close second. Grandma has triumphed
over severe illness late in life, to bounce back and once again
take over the role of matriarch of our family.
Tammi
|
| 825.2 | | WMOIS::S_LECLAIR | | Thu Oct 12 1989 17:24 | 10 |
| I owe a lot to my maternal grandmother. When I was 8 years old, I
started taking piano lessons and couldn't seem to grasp the basic
fundamentals. My grandmother sat down and very patiently explained
all I needed to know. She was a teacher for a lot of years and I
guess that helped her relay ideas easily to others. As I got older
and started taking Alegbra in school, she would patiently explain
all that I didn't understand. This woman probably meant more to
me during my childhood than any woman, including my mother because
of her patience and understanding and kindness.
|
| 825.3 | don't get me started,...you know how i get(-: | STC::AAGESEN | | Thu Oct 12 1989 18:40 | 92 |
|
The title to this topic made me think of an Alix Dobkin song "The Woman in
Your Life". Part of it goes something like:
"The woman in your life
will do what she must do
to comfort you
and calm you down
and let you rest now....
The woman in your life
she can rest so easily
she knows everything you do because
the woman in your life is YOU"
good song.......maybe the 45 is out(-:
[enough of this rathole(-:]
Mom - What a woman! Mom was never much of a disciplinarian, forever
"grounding" me and not following thru with her threat. My mother much
preffered talking (discussing, analyzing, ect.). I think her
"processing approach" to resolving conflict is something I carry
with me very strongly to this day. I also would go as far as saying
that the enviornment I grew up in is one reason why I react rather
negatively to a "DIRECT ORDER", or mandate <hehehe>. Mom very much
instilled in each of her children a strong indepedancy that she now
occasionally regrets. She didn't have an easy time as a single parent
after her divorce. I still marvel at the ability she displayed in
taking on this task. I can think of many other choices she could
have made for herself to make that time in her life easier.
My mom refuses to "grow-up"(-:. I remember once when she met myself
and SO at Port of Miami to bid us farewell on a 7-day cruise. She
shows up with a HAPPY BIRTHDAY helium balloon that was about 4
feet in diameter for me to carry on the cruise ship. Hell,
the thing barely fit into those little cabin spaces they give ya'!
She's the kind of woman who gives absolutely everything of herself
to her kids and asks for very little in return.
sister - My sister Tammy is without a doubt my best friend <outside of my
SO>. She and I are *very* different from each other, which may be one
reason I think our relationship is so special. She was always
considered the "good kid" when we were growing up, as opposed to me
being a bit of a rebel<<--note the world's greatest understatement(-;>
According to my mom, *I*'m the one who taught Tammy how to lie
because I begged her to tell mom we didn't get report cards one time.
Silly me, I forgot to consider that some of the people my mother
worked with may have had children in school also(-:. Most of the
special memories I have about Tim-Tam are ones that happened
"post-growing up" years. Like the time we were crowded in the sunday
school classroom of the church my great-grandfather built and
ministered in, getting dressed for Tammy's wedding. More recently, me
driving like a bat-out-of-hell to make it to Virginia before her first
child was born this past August. Or us meeting up in Washington D.C.
last October for the NAMES Project Quilt un-folding. We called
"home" to mom during the afternoon to find out that our
grandmother had died unexpectedly. Tammy most often serves as my
sanity check, and I hers. She is a very special woman in my life.
"Big Mom"- Who got her nickname because she was too young to be a grandma
when her first grandchild was born(-:. She was my mothers mom,
and the only grandparent that left much of an impression on me.
Big Mom was a very domineering woman, and without a doubt the
family matriarch. She is the one who pulled us all together when
*she* decided that was how we should be, all together. I loved
her very much, but I think it is fair to say we had our
personality clashes. She had 4 children before she turned 21. I was
always intrigued with the idea that this woman raised 4 children by
herself in the late 20's thru the mid to late 40's. A difficult job,
even by today's standards. Let alone the standards that applied to
women during that era. She didn't have her family's approval or
support to fall back on. Big Mom had a love for music that she
passed on to each of her children. She would follow the Gospel
singing groups religiously. I remember her taking me to Gospel
singing events all the time when I was young. I was very impressed
that she personally knew the members of the different groups, and
that she had sung with several of them in churches over the
years. Ahhhh, the hours spent standing around the piano with her
playing/singing and the rest of us joining in........
Although we had our differences, I still miss her
overbearing, often cantankerous, co-hesive nature that she
lended to our extended family.
Thanks for starting this topic, Bonnie. I enjoyed the trip down
memory lane.
~robin
|
| 825.4 | | FSHQA2::AWASKOM | | Thu Oct 12 1989 19:17 | 30 |
| If I get through this without tears, it will be amazing.
My mother was my best friend. When I was between the ages of 8
and 18, my father was a consultant and away from home Monday through
Friday. I have such clear memories of sitting on the kitchen counter
while she wiped up after dinner and talking, sometimes for hours,
about everything under the sun while I was in high school. She
would clean the same piece of counter several times over, so that
I would continue the conversation.
I can never go to the beach without remembering the vacation we
took, just the two of us, to the Cape some years after my divorce.
She tried to teach me to appreciate the ocean and share *her*
child-like wonder at exploring the shore. (She was raised in
Conneticut, I in Illinois.)
The year my son was 1, my husband was overseas and I lived with
my folks. Mom was finishing her last year of college at Wellesley,
I was finishing my last year at Northeastern, kidlet went to a day-care
that only lasted to the end of the high-school day. The juggling
act she helped me with to make sure that at least one of us was
out of classes early enough to get the kid was amazing. (I have
2 sisters, one was in her final year at Mt Holyoke that year. We
all graduated within 3 weeks of each other. In age-chronological
order. It was amazing.)
2 1/2 years after her passing, I still miss her. And I try to help
my sisters in the ways that she helped me.
Alison
|
| 825.5 | | DZIGN::STHILAIRE | Food, Shelter & Diamonds | Thu Oct 12 1989 19:35 | 46 |
| Somes of the things I appreciate the most about my mother:
1. Even though she didn't go to college, and didn't work outside
the home, she got me interested in books when I was still a
toddler. Before I learned how, she used to read to me for
hours at a time. One of my earliest memories is my mother
reading to me, and when she tried to stop I would say, "Read
more," and she would. Even though we didn't have much money
I always had piles of kids books.
2. I think I got my appreciation for beautiful things from my mother,
whether nature, art, jewelry, or whatever. From the time I
was a little kid she was always pointing out beautiful things
that she thought were special that I should notice - moss on
rocks, flowers, icicles in the sun, a full moon, a sunset,
a starry sky, trees against the sky, etc. I'm really glad
I had somebody to point out all those things to me, and to
teach me to look closely at the small beauties of nature, which
I might have missed otherwise.
3. She also believed that people have to make themselves happy
and to entertain themselves in life. She always saw the glass
as half full and never half empty. I'm glad that she tried
to instill this attitude in me. I hope it will always keep
me from becoming a negative, bitter person, no matter what
happens.
4. She was in love with my father for 37 yrs. I'm glad I got to
witness this because I know it's possible to attain. But, it's
also frustrating because it's so difficult to find.
5. She also took care of my daughter, while I worked, from the time
my daughter started kindergarten until the middle of the 8th grade.
So, I never had to worry about paying for daycare or leaving
Melissa with strangers. They also had a very close relationship.
6. I think what I, personally, appreciated the most about my mother,
since I moved out of the house, is that she was always there
for me to talk to whenever I was upset about anything. She
would always listen to my problems, which were usually very
different from anything she had ever experienced, and would
always manage to say something to make me feel better about
life.
Lorna
|
| 825.6 | | BSS::BLAZEK | puppets dance on a burning floor | Sat Oct 14 1989 18:14 | 23 |
|
My mother's given me support and understanding my entire life.
I think I've done everything a child can do to shock her (what
is it that drives us to be such terrorists to our parents) but
she still loves me, and sometimes that amazes me. The things
I've learned from her are too numerous to mention. She's very
strong and independent, while also being nurturing and loving.
In an entirely different vein, I learned from my grandmother
how not to spend one's life. My grandfather left her 35 years
ago, married another woman, and my grandmother has spent her
entire life mourning the divorce and hating the woman he later
married (my grandfather died 30 years ago). Hatred does ugly
things to a person.
There are many other women in my life ... old friends, young
friends, new friends, women who have helped me develop into
who I am now. My relationships with women are very special.
I can relate to some women and interact with them in a way I
never will with men. And I cherish that.
Carla
|
| 825.7 | Pioneer women | ROLL::MINER | Barbara Miner HLO2-3 | Thu Oct 19 1989 16:36 | 61 |
| What a good idea for a note!
My grammy died this summer; her name was Mary. I learned many
things from her. She was **definitely** not a feminist (or so she
fervently claimed), but no one in my family uses the term "Strong
Woman". It is redundant. She wouldn't have used the words herself --
she just "did what had to be done".
Mary was born in '96. Her father abandoned the family when she was
2; her mother died of appendicitis when Mary was 9. She lived with a
guardian until he died when she was 16 (she kept house for him and ran
the post office). She lived with a family for the last two years of
high school -- her happiest times.
Mary loved to read; she passed that on to all of her children. When
her mind couldn't keep track of what she'd eaten for breakfast that
morning, she could still quote reams of poetry. The only poems that I
know, I memorized with her.
From stories of "the Vassar girls", Mary decided that she would go
to college, and she did. She taught school for three years to earn
money and attended four years of college. She was the only one from her
home town to go to college.
After she married, she could not teach in town (married women should
be home for their husbands!), but she taught in country schools where
they could hire no one else. She lived at the school and commuted home
on horseback for the weekends. She **loved** her teaching; she taught
in one-room schools, she taught first grade, she taught high school
English and History. She influenced hundreds of children. Her fondest
memories were of students, not of her children. I was sure that I would
be a teacher, too -- just like her. Mary was justifiably proud that her
teaching salary kept them "off the dole" in the 30's.
She homesteaded her own land, to which she was passionately
attached, even though they could never earn a living there (not enough
water for farming). They raised four children in a three room home with
no running water during the Depression. They had no near neighbors, and
could be cut off from town for months in the winter, but they had a lot
of books. They still spent summers there in the late 60's. I remember
visiting and taking baths in the FRONT YARD in a metal tub and washing
clothes by hand (I thought it was fun -- but I was 8).
My grammy was a tiny woman -- not quite 5 feet tall; her hair was
pure white since middle age. She looked like the archetypical grandma,
yet she was NOT cuddly, she didn't like babies, and I never saw her bake
cookies. She was not afraid of anyone and could never conceive of
teachers having problems with discipline. She quit a job that she
enjoyed because she was earning less than the male teacher ("and I was
BETTER", she said). The community protested and she was rehired -- yet
she didn't consider this feminism, just common sense!
She was the first adult that I realized was a PERSON -- with
problems, and mistakes, and talents.
>> What do I owe to her?
She was a shining example of a determined, intelligent, independent
woman who worked for the things she believed in; she expects no less of us.
Barbi
|
| 825.8 | Mom jangled when she walked... | SCARY::M_DAVIS | Marge Davis Hallyburton | Thu Nov 09 1989 20:18 | 22 |
| One little incident about my Mom is pretty telling:
My brother Bob was on scholarship at college and needed to make a
certain amount of money during the summer to supplement that, or chance
losing the scholarship. He was having a great deal of difficulty
procuring employment and the summer was moving on...
Mom decided that she hadn't yet called in her chits in the political
arena, and called Representative Robert Michel, our local rep...also
a bigwig in GOP circles. He had plenty of patronage to spread around
to good, loyal political workers.
Mom explained Bob's plight and asked if there was a chance Michel could
find him work. She added that she had been an election judge for many
years. Michel came back with a job on the highway crew which more than
satisfied the scholarship requirement.
What Mom *failed* to tell Michel is that she had been a DEMOCRATIC
election judge for many years. :^) :^) :^)
luvit,
Marge
|
| 825.9 | They've helped make me who I am | JAIMES::GODIN | Shades of gray matter | Thu Nov 16 1989 18:38 | 115 |
| There have been a number of strong and memorable women in my life.
Perhaps that's because I grew up in a part of the Western United
States that was still close to being a frontier (this WAS a number
of decades ago, remember). Frontier women had to be strong to
survive. They had to be able to work right along beside their men
and carry on with the usual chores of homemaking and childbearing
and rearing at the same time. I've always had a warm admiration for
the frontier women I've known and heard about. One of my favorite
pieces of art is a statue made of Western sandstone that is displayed
in a number of towns in the West -- The Madonna of the Trail. She
stands tall (taller than a real-life man), infant cradled in the crook
of her right arm, a rifle gripped by her strong left hand. She wears
a sunbonnet to shade her eyes from the blazing sun of the open
prairies, and there are work boots showing beneath the hem of her
dress. The handles of a plow extend beside her. Her face is strong
and determined. Little would dare to get in the way of this woman.
She was my idol when I was young, and she earns my respect as an adult,
because now I have a better appreciation of what she had to contend
with.
The women who have had the greatest impact on my life share many of
the qualities of the Madonna of the Trail.
One is my maternal grandmother, Laura Mabel Barnard Butler. She and
her parents, sisters, and brothers came by covered wagon from Eastern
Kansas to the dry Colorado plains in search of some land they could
rent to farm with the hopes that in time they'd be able to buy
it. With a high school education and a few classes at the state
normal school, she was accredited to teach in the one-room schools
of southeastern Colorado. She told us tales of those days, and I
was convinced the tales were true. Only after her death, when I
recounted some of those tales to my mother did I learn that my
grandmother had a wonderfully creative imagination that, had she
written her tales, would have made her a frontier author. She
married late in life then went on to bear four children, the last
two twins. This while living in a four-room adobe house with no
electricity or central heating or running water, a horse and wagon
as the only transportation into town 12 miles away, no prepared baby
food, no disposable diapers, no child care provider. The double
whammy of the Depression and the Dust Bowl added to the trials she
had to face, forcing her and her family off the farm and into town.
She returned to teaching to help feed the family, but by now
accreditation standards were higher and there were fewer schools
that would accept a teacher without a college degree. But the
country schools still did, and she taught three and four grades at
a time until well into the 1950s. As she aged, life's adversity
etched a determined look into her face. Yet she was always gentle
and patient and welcoming, and those who knew her realized the
apparent hardness was caused by a determination to survive, not by
anger or ill-will. She set great store in being a "lady," and
observed the manners of her day strictly. Even her best friends
were referred to as Mrs. or Miss, never by their given names. She
made the best fried chicken I've ever tasted; her watermelon pickles
were tender and sweet; and the peaches she canned annually until the
year she died were as close to fresh as possible to get in a
Colorado winter. My admiration for Grandma Butler led me to become
a teacher, to use my creative skills in writing, and to strive to be
gentle and kind.
In direct contrast to my lady-like maternal grandmother, my paternal
grandmother was a bull-dozer. Savola Iola Cole Schroeder was a
pampered daughter of a "town" family, which was supposed to mean
they had money instead of goods to trade for store-bought items.
She grew up used to getting her own way, and never changed. But to
me that was much more admirable than the door-mat behavior being
taught me as the "right" way to win men and influence my future.
Grandma did whatever she felt was good and necessary regardless of
what any of the neighbors might say. She pulled on a pair of
Grandpa's overalls and cleaned out the pig pen or drove the tractor.
She had her naturally-wavy hair cut at the barbershop. When her
circulation got bad, she wore colored knee-high socks over her
stockings to keep her legs warm, regardless of how people might
stare at her. When I got engaged she was horrified to learn that
my intended hadn't given me a diamond engagement ring, then almost
equally horrified when she learned there wasn't going to be any
vocal music at the wedding. Unless I changed my mind and arranged
for a soloist, she threatened to stand up in the middle of the
ceremony, pull the hymnal from the pew rack, and ask the gathering
to sing her favorite hymn along with her. I wasn't at all sure she
wouldn't do just that, but being just as stubborn, I refused. She
didn't follow through on her threat. We were two of a kind, which
scandalized my mother. Charging right into the fray, righting wrongs,
heedless of personal safety or the opinions of the masses. I loved
her take-charge approach. If a clothesline needed hanging, or a tire
changed, or a shelf built, or a tree felled, we'd do it; who needed
to wait for some man to do it for us? From her I learned to be
strong, to be assertive, to define my goals and go for them,
regardless of what others might say.
The third admirable woman in my life is my daughter, Laura Jane
Lewis. Most people seem to think that everything's come easy for
Laura. And it's true that her mettle hasn't been tested to the
extent of the other two women I've told you about. But I know how
much courage and dedication, discipline and strength she's needed
to accomplish her goals over the last 18 years. Her scholastic
record would make any parent proud. Her social skills are well
rounded and mature. She uses her talents, innate and acquired, to
beautify and improve the world around her. She goes against the flow
of the me-first world of her contemporaries and gives of herself to
help others. She has spent school vacations gutting tenements in New
York City for Habitat for Humanity. She has spent weekends walking
for the hungry or the homeless. She has spent evenings helping
feed the hungry and the homeless at a soup kitchen in her community.
She is today's woman in the sense that she knows who she is and what
she's worth and will stand up to any man who thinks it's his right
to put her down. She's cheerful and friendly. She sincerely cares
for people and listens to what they have to say. She is living
proof that one can be a feminist and still be feminine. Not
helpless, not dependent. But strong and achieving and assertive and
gentle and loving and caring and beautiful and graceful and soft.
From her I've learned love and gentle assertion and how to make peace
with myself.
Karen
|
| 825.10 | My grandmother Lily | VAXWRK::GOLDENBERG | Ruth Goldenberg | Mon Nov 20 1989 20:56 | 40 |
| The woman with the most influence on my life has been my maternal
grandmother, Lily. What a tough stubborn old lady she is! She's still
alive, although not really kicking, at 94. She's been in a nursing
home for the past year and a half. Recently we converted old home movies
to videotape and I was reminded how truly formidable she was in her prime.
She was born in Russia, I think in the Ukraine. She had 7 brothers
and sisters, mostly older. Her father mended samovars and other metal
objects. When he emigrated to the USA, my grandmother, a girl of
around 10, carried on the mending secretly to keep the business
going.
When her father made enough money, he sent for all the rest of the
family. Her mother and a brother came down with smallpox (?) between
the Russian port and Liverpool and were put into quarantine in a
Liverpool hospital. A Jewish family was somehow found who took the rest of
them in. None of them spoke any English. My grandmother says she
was the one who learned enough English to order fish and chips for the
rest of them.
One of her jobs, after she got to the states, starting in her
mid-teens, was working in a mattress factory. She became foreman, a
job almost always reserved for men then (and even now).
Later in her life her mother got sick and had to move to Florida.
50-odd years ago, at a time when I believe many women didn't drive at all,
my grandmother made the round trip from Boston to Florida with my
mother and uncle every winter to see her.
My earliest memories of her are from around 35 years ago. An extremely
strong-willed woman, she ran her immediate family and most of her
brothers' and sisters' families. She used to say there was nothing she
didn't do - she painted the house, she did carpentry, etc.
From her example, I learned that being female was not a limiting
condition. From resisting her domination and fighting to keep my own
space, I acquired some of her strength and will. I feel certain I
inherited much of my stubborness from her.
reg
|
| 825.11 | My Grandmother | HENRYY::HASLAM_BA | Creativity Unlimited | Tue Nov 21 1989 15:40 | 41 |
| Another vote for a grandmother!
My maternal (and only) grandmother, Leonora Lucina Crans, was one
of three daughters. Her family originally emigrated to America
during a pogrom against the Jews in Poland. When they arrived in
Kansas, they shortened their name from Kranski to Crans, so they
wouldn't be persecuted for their religious beliefs.
My grandmother, being the oldest, was the daughter who nursed her
dying mother (TB) and stood by her bedside to be instructed on how
to bake bread. She was eight at the time. After her mother's death,
she was sent to live with an aunt who beat her and used her as a
maid. She finally was allowed to return home, and finished growing
up. When she was eighteen, Grandma met the man of her dreams.
He was everything she ever wanted, and she was thrilled when he
proposed. Her hero seduced her, got her pregnant, and left to return
home. When Grandma found out her condition, she packed up and went
to find him only to discover, to her horror, that he was a married
man with two children. Having nowhere to turn in her shame, my
grandmother bought a dime store ring, changed her name and added
a Mrs. to it. She had my mother, and raised her to revere her father
as "the most wonderful man God ever let breathe." She told my mother
that her father had died in an early motorcar accident and reassured
her as to how happy he had been when he knew she was to be born.
My grandmother struggled through the depression alone, and had to
place my mother in orphanages as a "day student" because there was
no adequate childcare available. After my mother was married, had
children and was deserted by my father, my grandmother accepted
the job of taking care of my sister and me while my mother worked.
By this time, Grandma had a serious heart condition and arthritis
of the spine that caused her to walk permanently bent over. She
was the person who loved me simply because I was me. When I wanted
to learn to play the piano, she bought me one on time, and paid
for it for five years, a few dollars a month out of her pension
check; then, she paid for me to have lessons. Because of her strength,
I have been able to be strong in spite of the beatings and abuse
of the past. Even in death, I continue to draw on the strength
of her love for me. Because of her courage, I can face today and
look forward to tomorrow.
Barb
|
| 825.12 | Another grandmother | ULTRA::GUGEL | Adrenaline: my drug of choice | Wed Nov 29 1989 16:45 | 17 |
|
My maternal grandmother, though I never knew her very well, as she
died when I was 5 years old. However, it's what I know about her
life that inspired me.
First, she was the oldest child of eight, which is exactly where I am.
So when I was young and thought to myself "my parents don't understand
me because they were the youngest in their families", I sometimes
remembered that my grandma had my position, and wherever she was,
she understood.
Second, she, and all her sisters, and all her brothers, went to college,
*and* graduated with 4-year degrees. Her father insisted on it.
Remarkable for 1910. When a neighbor said to him, "What on earth
did he hope to gain by sending his *daughters* to college, he retorted
that if they learned to mind their own business, he would consider it
money well spent.
|