Tag Archives: mom

Backdoor note

Family, Memories, People, ,

My mom and I had a difficult relationship when I was in high school and sometimes (often) we would have arguments over things she said and I misunderstood (sometimes purposely) or didn’t want to hear. One way for her to apologize without actually apologizing in person was to tape a typewritten note on the back door so I would see it before I walked inside. Once, after explaining to me what I might expect at my doctor’s appointment the next day (she thought I’d get a pelvic exam and I was horrified and lashed out) she typed an apology that she should not have told me in such detail — and also that the doctor’s appointment had been postponed. (In reality the appointment was simply a wellness check — no stirrups involved.)

Another time Mom taped a note to the back door was after I’d been through a very sad few days, having been told by my English boyfriend that he would not be able to come to the States that summer. She’d gotten the mail that afternoon and a letter from Jeremy had arrived. He’d written on the back of the envelope “GOLDEN NEWS INCLOSED! Coming in on a wing and a prayer.” Mom knew I would be happy so she typed it up and taped it to the back door.

That time Mom, Dad, and the Pasholks were on a nude beach

Family, ,

I’ve finally gotten back to going through stuff in the attic. Today I looked at a small book of photos that came from Mom’s house.

This contained mostly photos of women at a beach wearing nothing above the waist, and sometimes nothing below it either. There were a few of Jack and Joan and a couple of Mom. There were none of Dad — so either he was taking the photos or didn’t leave the ship.

They went on a cruise in January 1993. They were on the cruise when Andrew was born, that’s how I know the month and year. That was the cruise that pushed Dad over the edge of alcoholism. He was never the same after that.

Mom told me a story about a woman selling her some clothes that Mom didn’t really want to buy. Apparently the woman was really pushy. I think some of these photos show her. I don’t think this is what she bought though.

Mom with a dollar bill in her cleavage
Mom and Joan at the beach
Mom and a pushy saleswoman
Mom trying on a dress
Mom and some graffiti
Mom and local art

Mom was younger than I am now. She was just shy of 57 years old. She looks pretty good for 57.

A note from Richard

Death, Dreams, Family, Friends, Memories, Writing, , ,

In Mom’s final years she reconnected with Richard, a friend from school. He was kind to her and genuinely loved her. He spent part of each day with her, sometimes spending the night. This was especially helpful after her dementia diagnosis. He knew about it long before my brother and I did; although I’d seen some signs I chose to ignore them.

While Richard was staunchly Catholic and went to church every Sunday, he didn’t force his religious views on anyone.

Once Mom was moved to my brother’s house Richard visited her at least twice weekly even though she rarely seemed to know who he was. She was always very happy to see him, so she must have known he was someone she loved and who loved her.

The night Mom died I had a dream that she rose out of her bed and seemed to want to escape the house, standing at the window on her tiptoes, arms fluttering behind her like a moth, eventually shattering into millions of sparks. I recounted this dream to Pastor Keith who we asked to speak at her funeral and he included it verbatim in his sermon. After the service Richard asked for a copy of both Pastor Keith’s sermon and what I said at the funeral.

A few days after the funeral I received this note from Richard:

Dear Donna [sic],

Thank you for your letter of your mom’s life and last night.

I really liked your dream of Pat’s looking out of the window at a bright light on tippy toes.

I think that whs the time she passed and touched the face of God.

May she rest in peace,

Richard Peabody, September 2016