My Mother's Story (part 3)

At age 51 (about my age currently...more or less...well...less...)

My mother’s birthday is today, and this year she would have been 90. She died 3 years ago this year tomorrow, at 87.

(This is the 3rd part of my story of my mother.)

Mom and a later roommate, Gladys, started growing iris, like crazy iris ladies…but not really. Well, maybe a little. She served as president of the local chapter of the iris society. Dearest Sister and my mother had quite a hobby business selling iris rhizomes at the local farmer’s market for years. They had a system truly finessed, and I have come to find out Wonderful Guy very likely bought iris from them, but that is a story for another post.

Momma in one of her show gardens...

I believe there were two attractions for Momma about the farmer’s market iris gig, besides the iris. There was, of course, helping people with her wealth of knowledge. And there were PEOPLE. Mother never met a stranger. Ever. She could strike up conversation in check out lines, in parking lots, with people at other tables in restaurants, waiting for a table in restaurants, cashiers, anyone anywhere! Dearest Sister and I often comment on the fact that she and I find ourselves incapable of interacting easily with those we don’t know while Mom didn’t have any problem at all.

KC Star article regaling Mother's efforts...

After Mom moved into the ‘Towers’ (apartments for retired folks), she organized a community garden. The garden, which started small, and under protest and much negativity, grew to triple and quadruple its original size, ending up funded by the apartment management. Gardeners had their own farmer’s market, and those that didn’t grow got a bit of exercise walking out to see what was being grown. It was a tremendous success, but Momma was just glad she could keep gardening after moving to the apartment! I have inherited the grow light set up she used. I cannot convey with words the delight she took each year from perusing the seed catalogs. She was quite progressive in choosing some new variety yearly. She started her seeds in the cleaned, styrofoam cups she would scavenge from the gathering area in the lobby of the ‘Towers’, ever dutiful in her thriftiness.

With the gardening ladies...

Momma loved her grandkids, even if it wasn’t shown in the ‘traditional’ sense. She wasn’t one to indulge them, especially if she could teach them a lesson…like how to transplant tomatoes. Or weed the iris. She really didn’t like unproductive time. At all. Which is why, to this day, it is difficult for me to just sit. I need to ‘be doing something’. So while I watch TV, I knit, or quilt, or read, or spin…always being productive, getting something accomplished.

Being at Grandma's wasn't completely without it's treats, and that usually came in the form of a Dr. Pepper served in a frosty mug. Dr. Pepper was Mom's favorite drink from as early as I can remember. When Dearest Sister and I were young, and money was tight, Momma would occasionally indulge herself, and us, with a carton of six bottles. She would share, but always rationing. The caps of Dr. Pepper back then had the numbers 10, 2, and 4 on them. Mom had Dearest Sister and I convinced that those were the only appropriate times for a Dr. Pepper break, 10AM, 2PM, and 4PM.

With Precious Niece...

I learned to sew and to knit from Momma, two skills I am very grateful for, and upon which I have built. She spent years knitting dishcloths, and that story is here. I have many cooking skills that she taught me as well, but those are more basic. Her skills in the kitchen were not so much of the formal variety, but could she bake some bread! It just wasn’t ever the same twice. I remember her homemade cinnamon rolls especially. Everyone loved her carmel rolls, with all the sticky stuff on the bottom. Everyone except me. So she always made a small pan of non-sticky ones, just a few, special for me. At least that’s the way I remember it. And of course, I do not do anything a thing in my yard without a thought going to Momma.

Always ready to travel, especially to see the grandkids...

She truly valued education, and traveled until she couldn’t, to every graduation of kids and grandkids, be it from high school or college or flight school. Partly, I think, because her love of travel never dimmed, and I think it gave her an excuse to get up and go! Mostly, though, it was a sincere celebration of achievement on her part for her offspring and grandchildren. Growing up without financial resources, we didn’t have much, but we always had books, and as an adult moving often, one of the first things I do upon moving to a new place is to get a library card. Wonderful Guy is often confounded at the amount of money I can spend on books without any justication. Books, and reading, and learning are...productive!

Reading to the grandkids...

Happy birthday, Momma.

Tomorrow, I think, will conclude my memories.