(This post is in memory of my mother Grace on what would have been her 86th birthday.)
Eighty-six years ago today, a baby was born in a small farming community in the thumb of Michigan. Her name was Grace, and she would eventually become my mom. The year she was born, unemployment raged at 25 percent, the Nazis took power in Germany, and Babe Ruth hit 34 home runs. She died of ovarian cancer in 2012, the year the Mayan calendar predicted the world would end. Yet here we are. (Below: Grace in her high school graduation picture in the 1950s.)
LIFE WITH GRACE. I wanted to remember Grace in a special way today. But how? I considered sharing some of the things she taught me. She was a woman of adages: “Don’t lie.” “Never wear ratty underwear.” “Actions speak louder than words.” Yet those lessons seem somewhat “meh,” like Velveeta cheese on Ritz crackers. Grace was more like baked brie with pecan crumble on crisp apples. She was more like what musicians know as a grace note: a note added to embellish a harmony or melody. Grace was quite often that. An embellishment. A sometimes not so subtle grace note.
(Below, Grace celebrating marriage in the 1960s [look at her delicate shoes!].)
THE GOOD. Life with Grace was far from boring. She was a tiny woman and perhaps a tiny bit vain, too. She loved dressing “to the nines,” with shoes and a purse to match her outfit. Her shoes had to be custom ordered, a size 5-1/2 narrow with a AAA heel. Grace relished dressing us up, too; she liked for her five daughters to be noticed. She adored entertaining…laughing…playing bridge…hosting dinner parties…decorating and re-decorating her house.
(Below, me long ago, all dressed up by Grace.)
THE BAD. Growing up with Grace was not all lollipops and laughs. She could be quite critical. You could usually tell disapproval was coming when she squinted her eyes before speaking. (“Janet, why isn’t this A- an A?” or “Jan, what do you think about our joining Weight Watchers together this Saturday?”) Have I mentioned she wasn’t always subtle?
Grace wasn’t big on issuing apologies either (deserved or not). Nor was she a huge fan of PDA (public show of affection). I used to attribute this to her stoic English-German roots. In retrospect, I think being vulnerable scared her. She was widowed three times. Her longest marriage was six years. I’ve come to wonder if brushing off her feelings made her pain a little less real. Married or alone, she had five girls to raise. Perhaps she just expected us to “get” it, to understand that she had to be strong.
(Below, Grace being strong, taking four of her five daughters on a cruise of the Saint Lawrence Seaway to visit Expo '67 in Montreal.)
THE SHARP. Never one for self-pity, Grace embraced life. She enjoyed several careers through the years. She was court reporter before raising her family. In later years, she worked as a realtor and then an international tour guide, leading travel groups on train trips through Canada and Europe. She went back to college in her sixties for a degree in interior design. She was ambitious, smart, and well-intentioned. She loved to share her fun and generous spirit.
(Below, Grace with her five daughters and three of her granddaughters on a cruise to Mexico in the 1980s.)
THE PREPOSTEROUS. Have I mentioned yet that Grace could be a bit of a flake? When our kids were little, she’d bring them small presents whenever she visited. Our son Daniel must have been around eight when Grace came laden with a gift that made her particularly giddy. Her excitement was contagious, and we all gathered around to watch. She handed Daniel the gift, a rubber hand. “Put this on your shoulder,” she told him, “and press the button. See, it moves!” Indeed, the hand did move—one finger on it, at least. Oh, yeah. Inadvertently, my mother had bought our son … let’s just call it a battery-operated intimate adult novelty device. “The Hand” is still remembered fondly during many a family gathering.
(Below, Grace enjoyed receiving gifts as well as giving them. If only we'd captured a picture of Daniel opening "The Hand"....)
HER LEGACY…ABRIDGED. Looking back, I guess I did learn some fairly deep lessons from Grace, whether she meant me to or not. For one, I never hesitate to say “I love you.” (You never know if you’ll get another chance.) For another, I try to emulate how she maneuvered life’s detours. She trekked through tough and tragic times to round the bend…just in case more joy and adventure awaited. Mostly, though, I try to live by one of her other adages: “Get over yourself and laugh.” It’s not always easy, but it definitely makes life much more delicious.
(Below, it would please Grace to know that her daughters are still hanging out for the occasional adventure [here at the Weather Channel in Atlanta].
Here’s to magnificent memories of life with Grace on her eighty-sixth birthday! May her lessons continue to creep up unexpected, like a subtle grace note in the wind.
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