My mother, Grace widowed for 15 years,died at the age of 79. She must have been lonely, living 60 miles away from me, her only child. She, of the flapper era, did Charleston steps in her small kitchen, neatness personified and never was able to tame my father's gambling addiction. We wondered if he would leave her penniless but her house was paid off and she said she said she was at peace.
When I became a widow over a year ago, only then did I realize how truly lonely she must have been. Good, now I have something else to feel guilty about. I do miss her Saturday morning phone calls especially after my father was gone. She did love to relate his defects. She recorded events in her life on a cassette and left them along with tapes of Elvis. She loved Elvis.
My grandmother, Josephine, became a widow in 1918 at the age of 28, left with four children and the job of burying her husband and infant son on the same week. Tough and strong, she came through Ellis Island at 15 with an uncle. I never knew why she left her family for this daring adventure.
I last saw her in a nursing home where she sang, My Bonny Lies Over The Ocean At 92, she was grateful that her, "Eyes lasted as long as" she did. She loved soap operas and let me know who was the bad lady.
When I think about these feisty women when Mother's Day approaches. How I would love to have one more visit with them, now that am 82 and relate to their traumas, their grit and especially their sassyness. Seems familiar. Would that I have their spunk and survivor skills.
By the way I enjoy night time soaps and play my Frank Sinatra CD's when I am lonely.
So saya Sassy
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