I miss her

"I don't know if I can keeping doing this, Cec. The problem is that I am still interested in so much. I want to see what you and Mallie are doing. I don't want to miss anything!"

I was writing to a friend, this morning, and I recalled these words of my mum. She said this only about a month before her death.
( read previous entries for the account of her last week )

She was a woman of many talents. She was "Martha Stewart" before that was a phrase.. She made holidays festive with incredible food and homemade decoration. For 40 years she threw a Christmas party that friends still remember. Complete with amazing finger foods, cocktails, an amazing buffet, specially put together presents and music, this woman also trimmed the house and painted all the baseboards and doorways so that things would look fresh and festive!

We kids were never allowed in the living room, Christmas morning, until the tree was on, candles lit, food put out and music playing. We were always amazed at the transformation of our little house. It was magical.

My mother loved travel and every trip we took we always had adventures along the way. Whether it was Mammoth Caves in Kentucky or standing at the bridge at Concord or marveling at the design of Monticello...we were given a love of history that was constantly reinforced.

My brother and I grew up in a house that was full of books and music. Our parents even picked out music to be playing for that first moment home, after our births. My brother was serenaded by Bach's Unaccompanied Cello Sonatas and I was celebrated with Handel's Watermusic!

Our parents were constantly showing they loved us by being at all those rehearsals and concerts. When Paul played in the Detroit Youth Symphony, my parents (and I!) were in audience...every Saturday for two years at Ford Auditorium. And years later, Mom came with me, every Saturday from 9 - 3, to Oakland University when I was 16 or 17 as I rehearsed with a group called The Academy of Popular Vocal Arts. She never learned to drive and she said it was that I needed her in the car as I made the then, long trip, out to Oakland - the real reason is she loved to see what all we were doing.

When I played Eliza Dolittle in My Fair Lady, my senior year of high school, my parents were in the audience for every show. My father, being a self employed musician, lost a week of work but that was never an issue.

There are so many memories swirling in my head. The woman that passed away last month was still vital, still engaging and engaged and witty. Her last crossword puzzle, left unfinished by her chair, was done in ink.

I admit I lost sight of the woman that she was, in the three years since my dad's been gone. Cancer was the constant shadow and weekly trips to "Our Lady of Hope Cancer Center" made Mondays for us. In going through her things and starting the process of dismantling their home - since 1955 - I am beginning to remember the woman that I grew up with. The "Mom" I was always proud to introduce friends too - even in those difficult teen years. My folks were always able to converse with anyone and make everyone feel at home.

I miss you, Mom and Dad. Christmas Day we will raise a glass of champagne to you both and know that our stars in heaven are tripping the light fantastic, together again.