Things I got from my Mother

"I think if you learn over and over from your parents that you do not get love from wallowing in hearbreak or failure, then you don't really have much of a habit of doing it."

-Nora Ephron

Okay, maybe not "THINGS" but, let's say, attributes, personality traits, skills, perspectives, values. I haven't had lots of quiet time to think about this lately, despite the fact that it is summer and I should have this kind of time. But an article in New Yorker (July 6&13 2009) magazine about Nora Ephron and this quote about her mother sparked me to try to get something down. Also next Friday is the day we gather the family- daughters, granddaughters, and sons-in-law for a memorial service at sea where I would like to have a few words thought out and ready to share. We will leave Mom's ashes and some flowers somewhere off the Pacific coast.

I am looking forward to this event, and maybe that is a place to start by crediting Mom with my own enjoyment of the ocean, boats and ships, and travel in general.

When I read Nora Ephron's quote about her own mother, I thought "this is it." This is exactly the salient trait I have gotten from my mother. Maybe more than anything else, this is what shapes me and gives me whatever strength I bring to my life. From my mother I learned that crying will get you exactly nowhere, and though I have been a crybaby all my life, I have never believed that it accomplishes anything, except to make my eyes sting for the rest of the day. For a good chunk of my adult life, I thought this trait came from Dad, but he finally showed himself in later years to be a very emotional man. I don't think I remember ever seeing Mom cry. There is a passage in my baby book that she wrote when I caught her crying over her dishwater (I don't think she elaborated on the reason for her tears) and I asked her what was the matter, did she forget how to wash the dishes? I don't remember this event, have only read about it. Even in her last days, she didn't want us "hoobooing" around her, and hard as it was, we mostly complied.

This no-nonsense approach to life kept us all from becoming vain or petty. I believe we were made stronger and more able to weather storms and life's downfalls by understanding that it is up to each of us to make it all work.

This is not to say that Mom was hard hearted. She brought her considerable skill and training to her job as a wife and mother, and took her role seriously. She gave us clear boundaries, consistent expectations, and plenty of love in the right doses at the right times.

From my mother I learned that my thick thighs, the bain of my vanity, are actually sturdy walking machines, and that I should consider myself lucky to be so strong. I learned that a sniffle and a cough is not a reason to skip school, but if you GO to school and that sniffle and cough becomes a raging fever and a case of strep throat, you will be well taken care of, with TV in your room, rainbow sherbet and a willing partner for string tricks.


I have an early childhood memory of Mom helping me with my piano practice. Whatever it was I was working on was not coming easily, and Mom kept at me to try again, till in angry tears I got it. "See," she said to me "you just weren't mad enough." I learned that sometimes getting mad makes for good art, and if you push through the frustration, you often come out the other side triumphant. This comes back to me now as a teacher of music, and I have said the same thing at times to my own frustrated students.


I learned from Mom that you can wait for good things. That anticipation is part of the fun. Traveling as a family was something that brought this lesson into sharp focus. Weeks before a long road trip, we would be allowed to pick out some special toy at the toy store. One year it was wonderful stuffed animals, or...what WAS that thing that jungle baby thing that clung to the trees in the home movies...another year we had Colorforms. The planning and dreaming about the trip was part of the fun of traveling. "This time next week we will be in BLANK" was something Mom said to reinforce the pleasure of this anticipation. I use this myself, as in "Two weeks from today we will be in Guadalajara" . The toys we picked would be put away, and forgotten about, the way you "forget" about the 500 dollar bill you hide under the Monopoly board.


Preparations for a trip intensified in the days before, and to this day the smell of Mennen's skin bracer still puts me in mind of the square blue "train case" that carried all our toiletries- the last thing to be packed.


Early in the morning of the trip, we would be wakened to climb groggily into the back of the station wagon and sleep till the sun rose, at which time we would stop for breakfast and change clothes. But those toys remained hidden, sometimes for a day or two. Finally the backseat bickering would get to Mom and she would reveal these forgotten treasures. I guess it worked. I have only the happiest recollections of these family road trips.

Here is an incomplete list in not any particular order of the legacy my Mom left me: A love of language and wordplay. This includes finding the humor in the daily grind and sharing a good story with a loved one. It includes desiring to understand and attempting to learn foreign languages. And it also includes, of course, the Daily Jumble, Scrabble, crosswords, in all of which she was an expert. Mom bestowed upon me an interest in trying new things and exploring the world. She taught me through example the values of honesty and integrity. Perhaps most lasting and important in my life she shared with me love of music, particularly the love of making music with other people. I may never have as good or fun a piano duet partner as she, and I will always treasure the endless hours she spent with me accompanying my various solos in my childhood and adolescence.

It seems trite to say, but Mom lives on in each of us. I can't say much about what my sisters feel are their inheritances, but I know that we all grew into adults that our mom was proud of, and have enjoyed success in our lifetimes, because of the great lady who raised us all. I will miss her for the rest of my life.