GOING LIKE 88

Today is my Mother’s birthday. 88 years of Olympia! The enforcer, the cook, the disciplinarian, the mediator, the scourge of bad little boys, the loving Mother, because she said so, because you better, she was all that and as we say in the ad business, “Much, much more.” She never drove, but she drove her children to always do better.

Mom had a unique cure for all who ailed: it was “You’ll be fine, now go to school.”

She raised 5 children, no pets, and NO in-laws. She demanded we be clean, both in body and language. She made sure we mixed it up when we should. She was a saint with the devil in her. (See the button story.)

She was the oldest of three girls, raised without a father, and a sickly Mother, who put her three daughters in a home while she went into a hospital for a time to heal.

My Mother never worked, my Dad wanted her “home with the kids.” She was greeted with great joy when we got home-“Hi Ma, I’m home!” Olympia took care of other people’s children, besides her own. She made our home happy when there was sadness, and her laugh still echoes in my mind and heart. She is the best cook I ever knew, and filled the house with great aromas and taught it all to my wife.

You could tell Mom a joke on Monday, she would laugh, and on Tuesday repeat the joke, and she would laugh harder. She knew when you were faking it, and she let you know. She can be very critical, yet understanding, can swear with the best but seldom did. She kept a wooden spoon handy to keep a certain party in line. Her funniest line was “Wait till’ your Father gets home!” after every infraction incurred by a certain party. Her house was spotless, tidy, and everyone did his or her share to help at a tender age.

Every Friday mid morning until noon, she mopped the kitchen floor, and spread newspapers so we could walk on the floor at lunchtime. Whenever I smell pine-scented cleaners of any kind, I think of the spring days she would have the windows open, the fresh air blowing in gently, and the smell of her clean house.

Today she volunteers for Brookhaven Memorial Hospital, three days a week. It is her life, after years of staying at home. She still contributes to the world at 88 years. It only goes to show you the human spirit never rests, but seeks new horizons, and challenges.

It seems very appropriate to me that her birthday falls so near Mother’s Day, and some years on Mother’s Day. She will be forever in my face, reminding me of what is really right, long after she is gone. She is not perfect, neither am I, that she taught me too.
Happy Birthday, Mom.

Love, your only son