Me, In My Mother's Hat - HAPPY NEW YEAR

                                     Silver Birch - Me, in My Mother's Hat

To read a poem that was SO much fun to write, click on title under photo. A little sad and whimsical, too... I miss my mom. This is a tribute to her. 

Happy New Year!

Thanks for reading!

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May 3rd

This morning a writer friend sent a YouTube video via private message. It’s A Beautiful Day’s "White Bird." Not sure why James sent it, but no matter… it was a lovely gesture. "White Bird" has significance for me though I've not thought about the song in years. 
Today my mom would have been 94. The gorgeous woman with the camera here. The wind is blowing her skirt; it’s not a thread holding it in place, like a magazine shot. A gust just came along to make this photo perfect. She’s looking into the lens of a box camera and must have been heavily concentrating; one had to hold them very still to get a decent picture. A car is parked on the street behind her and I believe this is taken in Enumclaw. I wonder who is taking the photo of her but I can guess. 
I miss my mom. She was hard on me, most of my life, but she loved me dearly and I know that. It wasn't always easy being her daughter. She was demanding of everyone around her. She expected a lot. My mom had special disdain for people who slept well. She could not bear to let us kids sleep in and when we were adults, she deliberately made phone calls very early in the morning. The devil got his due when she was elderly and would miss the final moments of television shows and movies, nodding off.
My mother put me on rigid diets from the ages of about 12 – 15, until I rebelled. I was never fat but I was not sleek and thin like other women in my family. It bothered her immensely. And then I became a hippie. It nearly killed her but was nothing compared to what I did later, getting pregnant out of wedlock. Shame for the family. Twice. 
Mom and I became friends after my father died; he had always been my great defender and perhaps she felt the job fell into her camp. She read just about every word I wrote. She praised my writing and was proud. When she was dying, she asked me to print out some of my poetry and she would sit and read it, her head wrapped in a silly turban to hide the hair loss. I have a strong image of that. 
My mother shared her birthday with her sister, who was born on May 1st, five years later. They’re together now, having died two years apart. When I was young, our families got together for every occasion and made a very big deal of anniversaries, graduations, confirmations and such. There were a lot of photos taken; lots of shutterbugs in the family.

Many years ago I was living in Los Angeles and pregnant with my little girl. I had a close friend at the time and she was quite hip. Tanya’s mom owned a "poodle parlor" in San Diego and Tanya went by the last name of Lord, though that wasn't her real name. She moved in with me and we were soul sisters, doting on my baby boy and waiting for my next baby to be born. Tanya and I bonded in a way I never really have with another woman. Most people thought we were lesbians and we were not, but we never denied it. 
Tanya was a Taurus like my mom, and there were odd similarities I couldn't help realizing. it was a strange type of perfectionism they shared. Once Tanya took me to a party high in the hills of Hollywood. There were candles and flowers floating in the pool and famous people there but I'd been out of touch, having babies, so she explained to me who they all were. Tanya was very in tune with current culture and I've never forgotten when she brought albums home. It’s a Beautiful Day was one of her favorite groups. We listened to "White Bird," mesmerized by the melody and the lyrics. We spun that LP over and over until the grooves were deep as our thoughts and desires.
So this morning when James sent me the video, just as I was waking up and thinking about Mom’s birthday, clouds of images took over. 
I lost touch with Tanya long ago. I've no idea where she ended up. Mom's been gone for five years this July. My hair's turning gray and my children are different people from those to whom I gave birth. 

"The sunsets come; The sunsets go; The clouds roll by; And the earth turns old; And the young bird's eyes Do always glow…."

Happy Birthday, Mom and you, too, Tanya, wherever you both are.

Thanks for reading.






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And So It Goes

Thursday Afternoon 
January 9, 2014
Throwback Thursday



I just listened to Karrin Allyson's cover of Billy Joel's hymn-like song on the radio and every time I hear anyone sing it, I'm reminded of my mother. She loved this song and was so very fond of Billy Joel. We spoke of this "And So It Goes" in her last days and she asked me to print out the lyrics for her to read. I've often wondered who my mother thought of, or if she thought of anyone when considering these words. Perhaps she simply liked the melody. Along with too many other questions I never asked, I'll never know. 

And So It Goes
In every heart there is a room 
A sanctuary safe and strong
To heal the wounds from lovers past
Until a new one comes along

I spoke to you in cautious tones
You answered me with no pretense 
And still I feel I said too much 
My silence is my self defense

And every time I've held a rose
It seems I only felt the thorns
And so it goes, and so it goes
And so will you soon I suppose

But if my silence made you leave
Then that would be my worst mistake
So I will share this room with you
And you can have this heart to break

And this is why my eyes are closed
It's just as well for all I've seen
And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows

So I would choose to be with you
That's if the choice were mine to make
But you can make decisions too
And you can have this heart to break

And so it goes, and so it goes
And you're the only one who knows.

When she was in her hospital bed, shortly after her diagnosis, before she went home for her last two months with us, she told me she couldn't get the song "Softly As I Leave You" out of her head. She liked the Andy Williams cover best. 

Softly, As I leave You

Softly, 
I will leave you softly
For my heart would break
If you should wake and see me go
So I leave you softly, long before you miss me
Long before your arms can beg me stay
For one more hour or one more day
After all the years, I can't bear the tears to fall
So, softly as I leave you there
(Softly, long before you kiss me)
(Long before your arms can beg me stay)
(For one more hour)
Or one more day
After all the years, I can't bear the tears to fall
So, softly as I leave you there
As I leave I you there
As I leave I you there

My life often felt like a soundtrack was dramatizing the background. My mother had songs for this and my father had songs for that. My brothers and I were musically talented and some of us actually did something with our gift. There were often singalongs around the piano and both my father and maternal grandfather were constantly whistling, humming or singing, Grandpa sometimes in Danish. The kitchen radio was always on. Stacks of 78's, 45's and LP's gathered little dust. My brother's bands practiced in our basement, and sometimes famous people were in attendance. The music was encouraged. The scent of pot smoking was not. 

At Christmastime, our family has a holiday, one of which I have ceased to attend, that ends with a hootenanny. Some are entertainers; others simply entertained. Since Mom is no longer with us, it just ain't the same for me, even though in her later years, she was in bed long before the keyboards and strings made their appearance. 

My voice cracks now when I try to reach high notes and my whistler needs to be frequently wetted to make anything but tweeting noises. 

I've become whimsical and melancholy when listening to tunes such as these. 


click on the links below to hear:

Billy Joel "And So It Goes"

Andy Williams "Softly As I leave You"