Things My Mother Taught Me

I’ve been trying to decide what to write here about my Mom and Mother’s Day. It’s been more than 40 years since I could give her a hug and a kiss on this special day. One part of me wanted to write to her, thank her for what she taught me, the lessons she lived during her life, how that gave me a framework for my life.

The other part wanted to tell something of her story, from her birth until her death, almost part of the “Margarets Initiative,” as I’ve come to call the genealogical journey I’ve started on. I started out this way but soon realized I need to learn a little more so I can weave the story a little more concretely. (One example is to take the backing off a painted photograph I have of my grandmother, my mother, and my Aunt Sarah taken in 1923 or 1924. I think the name of the studio is printed on the photograph - if I remember correctly.)

So instead, I’m going to write about some key things she said along the way that still help me get along in life through its various ups and downs. Something of a legacy and a way to keep her close even though she’s been gone for more than two thirds of my life.

The first: "You can do anything you want to do, so long as you are Ready, Willing, and Able to accept the consequences of your actions." Each of the three words was spoken separately, with a pause, to emphasis their importance. I have to admit I’ve used this one a lot and hopefully I’ve been able to live up to the promise of Ready, Willing, and Able. She never tried to skimp my dreams and backed up her words with actions, like when she got the School Board to let me take drafting in 8^th grade (when “only boys” were allowed to take the class).

I remember one comment clearly. I was in my early teens (13 or 14 maybe??) and I’d been reading a slew of Cherry Ames books (the series starts with our heroine as a student nurse and follows her through various adventures including a stint as an Army Nurse), one about nurses serving during World War II in the Pacific theater, and other similar stories. I told her “I want to be a nurse when I grow up” (more focused on all the adventures than anything else). She “humphed/laughed” and said that no way would I be able to be a nurse, I’d have to be a doctor! Mothers can certainly be sharp-eyed about their offspring and even then I was pretty assertive about doing things My way.

“Always be a Gentleman” is another tenet that’s played a strong role in my life. By that she meant to be kind to others, give a hand without being asked, hold the door for someone, say “thank you” and generally behave like a gentleman would.

She taught me about art and being creative. Some of my favorite memories are of trips to the Detroit Institute of Arts with a dear friend, Patsy, to see one exhibit or another (waiting in a long line to see works by Van Gogh). I cherish going to the DIA as I feel so close to her there. Each time, I slowly walk the Renaissance hall that over looks Kresge Court and take the small circular staircase down. After the war, she would go there to sketch for art classes, working to fulfill her dream of being a fashion illustrator.

Her death, from metastatic ovarian cancer, also taught me much. Not just about how to live despite a body in such distress but also how to die (and how NOT to die).

I do miss her in ways, but she always seems to be with me in spirit. She would be 91 this year, maybe, maybe not still with us here – who can say? I keep her close regardless.

My mom was born in Glasgow, Scotland and sailed with her mother and sister to Canada, before joining her father in Detroit, Michigan in November 1925. She never made it to New York and the fashion world, but she never really put down her paintbrush and sketch pencil. Once her five surviving kids were in school she explored oil painting, charcoal, then acrylics. With Patsy, she was active in the League of Women voters in the early and mid- sixties and got me to help out printing the newsletter for the group and the Farmington Artist’s Guild.