Well, if you read last week's column, you may remember that I said this week I would be publishing
another "oldie and hopefully a goodie". I wrote the following - let's say article - many years ago.
You will see by my references to my son, Jamey, that at the time, he was a 'youth', a teen, a growing
young man. I sincerely hope that he doesn't mind my publishing this at this point in time. It was
written all those years ago with 'tongue in cheek' - but also with a lot of reality. I love you, Jamey.
I'm so very proud of you.
For any of my readers who are currently raising kids, I think you'll relate.
"Shrinking Motherhood"
Shrinking Motherhood. I think that term should be added to the rapidly growing list of euphemisms
we hear every day....such as "user friendly", "finding ourselves" and "service excellence".
Shrinking Motherhood. It says it all, doesn't it? I mean any mother of a growing-growing-gone
youth can relate to it. The thighs and waistline may be growing, but the Motherhood is definitely
shrinking!
You read in all the magazines today about how to hone your talents to insure career success. But
nobody ever addresses the subject of SMS, Shrinking Motherhood Syndrome Oh, sure, you hear
all about PMS, but to me that should refer to Pre-Mother Syndrome, when you thought Motherhood
meant much-wanted job security. Let's look at the facts. You're a professional in your field, but
suddenly you're left out standing in it - alone. You've specialized in, not only one area, but many and therefore, created job security for yourself. Nobody can "mother" like you can! You've given new
meaning to the word as a verb as well as a noun. Nobody knows her subject or has done her home-
work better than you have. You've had a great performance record, never missed a day's work in
all these years and vacation and sick days are unheard of. They've been erased from the book, unused! You've beaten the popular theory that no one's indispensable. You're a darned phenomenon!
It can't be denied! I say, "It can't be denied! Hello! Is anyone out there listening?" No response.
That's the first clue. There's no one home to listen or respond. Relax. It's only the beginning. The
youth has come of age.
The bed is slept in, but you don't actually see the youth enter or exit the sheets. The plate is empty,
but you don't see the youth consume the food. You're sitting quietly in front of the TV, wishing
someone was there to share the storyline with you. Suddenly you hear a faint 'ding' of the telephone,
somewhere in the distance. Why, you recognize that sound. It's the sound of someone hanging up
the extension upstairs. The Youth! Hope springs eternal! You didn't even know the youth was home.
The sweet lad was probably just calling one of his buddies to cancel the evening's plans - in order
to spend more time with you - his mother. You rush to the stairs to greet the youth - and in the process
are swept from your aching and shrinking parental feet by what would, in meteorological circles, be
referred to as a tornadic wind. You see a blaze of color as the wind spins you to the floor and you
recognize the vivid blue as the $75 Polo shirt the youth received for his last birthday. And you hear
a voice but you can't quite make out the message. But yes, it's definitely the voice of the youth. What
difference if you didn't catch the phrase? He spoke and your ears heard. God! Life is good to me.
There's no denying it.
Now, I know that women everywhere are constantly fighting the battles of cellulite and the bulging
waistline. Who isn't? But mothers, as a contradiction, I'd have to say that vital parts on the "mother
model" are definitely shrinking. Take the lap. There's a part that was once "user friendly" but is now
considered obsolete.
And the shoulder, well nobody needs the shoulder anymore. You know, they always say "use it or
lose it". I guess that's why all women's clothes have built-in shoulder pads these days. Now I know
the index finger seems like an unimportant part. But try living without it. Just think of all the ways
you've used it through the years - when the youth was growing up. It was essential for keeping his
place when he was first struggling with reading and there were always those last minute nose and
ear checks, just before he exited the car before school in the mornings. Remember this one? "Put
your finger here, Mom, so I can learn to tie my shoes." And when all else failed your index finger
was needed from time to time, to point in the child's face - just to make your point. TRY THAT
ONE NOW!
But the heart, I guess, is the shrinking part that amazes me most. I mean scientifically it just
doesn't seem possible for something that is so full to actually shrink. Maybe this particular part
will just end up breaking instead. And it's the current unpredictability of the heart that's driving
me crazy. I can't trust the darned think anymore. I used to know when my heart was going to make
me laugh and when it was going to make me cry. I knew what filled and what emptied it and most
of the time, at least for the sake of appearances, I could manage to control it. But now the youth
seems to have taken over total control of it, and that really blows me away! I'm the one who's
suffered the heartburn and heartache over the years. I'm the one who's heart skipped a beat every
time the toddler went down or the bicycle went down, or the quarterback went down. It's the very
same heart that heaved a sigh of relief every time the fever went down or the swelling went down
or every time the sun went down - and the youth was safe at home with me.
It's just the crowning blow that now the youth can play havoc with this vital part. And it's not like you
can just stop payment on the heart or return it. It's no longer under warranty. Too many miles.
I guess I could ask for the youth's heart, in trade of course. But that would be a little pushy, don't you think? I guess I could just say to the youth, "Here, have a heart! Take it. It's yours - the whole thing!"
But no, that wouldn't be considered "quality parenting". And besides, I already did that, many years
ago.
**********
Well, there ya' go. Obviously by the references to the upstairs extension telephone and the women's
shoulder pads, you know this was written a long time ago, at a time when I really was questioning every maternal action and decision I was making. You just do the best you can at the time and in
every individual situation and hope and pray you're not damaging your children for life! (smile)
I just thought that at Mother's Day it might be appropriate to share with my readers. I hope you've
gotten some enjoying from it.
And Jamey, thanks for my wonderful card and the beautiful gardenia corsage. And thanks for being
the man you've become. And thanks for being mine and for making me the one thing I always hoped
to be, a mom. I love you.
Right now, he's probably thinking, "Mush!"
Saturday, May 13, 2017
Monday, May 8, 2017
"Memories Of My Grandma Mary Hasemeyer"
YEARS AGO..........when my Grandma Hasemeyer was still alive, I decided to interview her and
do a little essay about her. Grandma was always a "hoot". In her later years she had a form of
dementia, and though that could be sad, most of the time she was funny and cute and very, very jolly.
She always knew me which helped. It helped a lot.
I'm going to publish that "years ago" essay and hope that you enjoy it. Rather than re-writing it in
the past tense, I'm going to leave it in the tense in which I originally wrote it. So, in honor of
Grandma and Mother's Day, here it is.
***
"Talking With Grandma"
"So, you're on your way to work," said my Grandma, one morning as I stopped by for an early
morning visit. "I wish I had a job," she said. The remark caused me to smile, as it always does. It
was a remark that Grandma makes many times daily. Her mind is not clear much of the time. She
still lives alone, although she probably shouldn't. Most days she isn't aware of the month or the
year, unless we tell her. She repeats herself a lot and much of the time, doesn't recognize most
people. But her sense of humor and self respect are still very much intact. At 87 years of age, she
can't quite accept the fact that her "working days" are over.
From the time she married in 1919, she never held a job outside her home. She did, however, raise
a family of four active children, as well as a very large garden - every year. In her spare time she did hemstitching for people, quilted and managed to find time to sell produce from her garden. Certainly her life has been busy and productive and she has earned a rest. And still....she wishes she had a job.
In a day when many people resent the day-to-day routine of working outside the home and look
forward to the glorious days of retirement, I find Grandma's attitude truly refreshing. She never
tires of asking if there are little odd jobs she can do for me, such as washing dishes, folding clothes,
etc. And when possible, such as on the day I attempted this interview, I do find small chores for her
to do while she's at my home. Later on, after work, Grandma was at my house. She readily accepted the job of cleaning vegetables for me.
Several years ago, Grandma moved from her large home with ample yard to a small apartment in
an elderly housing complex - right across the street from me. She always loved doing yard work or
just sitting in the yard or in the swing on her front porch. Now her days are filled mostly with
television, looking through old photograph albums or visiting with her neighbors. Even though she
isn't able to enter fully into the conversations with her neighbors, due to her confusion, she still
enjoys hearing people talking and knowing that she isn't alone.
On this particular day, I said, "Grandma, what would you really like to do with your time?"
"Oh, I don't know. But I used to be very busy," Now she just wants to feel the world around her
and know that she is still a part of it.
Grandma gets excited about such little things, like a picture of a horse, or cow or chicken. She'll look
for hours at a picture or book with animals and over and over again, will remark, "Isn't that a pretty
horse?" or "I used to milk cows." At that point I know that Grandma's thoughts are returning to
the days when she was very young, when she lived with her family on a farm. On this particular day
Grandma seemed interested in a calendar picture of a horse. I asked her what types of
horses she had when she was a girl. Her eyes lit up as she smiled and said, "Oh, I just loved my
bay mare that I used to ride to school." That small fact, which she found somewhere in her fading
memory, is priceless to me. Somehow it helps me to piece together just a little more of the picture
I long for in my mind of that pretty young brunette girl so long ago.
Each time I question her about the days of her youth, her memory grows a little dimmer. And when
I think she's forgotten her youth completely, she'll surprise me with another momentary memory, a
jewel from the past.
When I take Grandma with me as I run errands, she loves to stay in the car in the parking lot and
watch people. She enjoys sitting and watching the world go by. She smiles and waves to everyone
she sees, never hesitating to speak to someone she doesn't know. She's never stressed and doesn't
relate to the words 'rush' or' hurry'. In her quiet way, she reminds me to slow down.....and enjoy.
Grandma raised me from the time I was 14, along with my two sisters and brother. She relished
having us with her and I've always felt that it kept her young and active. She was, more or less,
forced to listen to our music, watch our television shows and get to know our friends. And she did,
with enthusiasm. But when left to her own devices, she loved to watch such shows as 'Tony Orlando
and Dawn' and wrestling! We teased her about these shows all the time. Now when she watches
TV, she has trouble following the story lines and seems confused about what is actually taking
place on the screen. Only occasionally will she remark about a humorous comment or incident in the
story. Something that I find amusing though, is that she always asks me if I know the people on the
screen, and if those same people are at my house. I just smile and assure her that they are.
As Grandma cleaned vegetables on this day, I asked her. "How old do you think I am?" She looked
thoughtful and said, "Well, I don't know. Maybe 83!" Since she is 87, it's very obvious to me that age has ceased to be of much importance to Grandma!
The older I become the more aware I am of the value of having known my grandmother. Somehow
she has shown me the broader spectrum of things.....the deeper meanings of living.....and dying.
And she's done it by just living her life, day by day, simply and quietly. Grandma was never an avid
reader. She's never driven a car. And I don't believe I've ever known her to belong to any group
or organization, except for her church. She's known immense grief in her life and has remained
kind and caring and jolly. She never speaks badly of people and always tries to find good in those
around her. I'm moved by the thought that I should try harder to pattern myself after her example.
Grandma may be confused, her memory less than perfect, but her good and loving ways and her
faith in God far outweigh all other aspects of her life. When I grow old I hope to be loving and caring, jolly and excited by life, just like my Grandma.
***************
Well, if you're still with me, thanks for coming along on this sentimental ride. I'm sure that this has been much more cathartic for me than it has for you. (smile). Grandma passed away in 1990.
On the day she died, she ate a bunch of cookies, which she sweetly requested from the hospital
kitchen. She made us smile and even laugh. And her last words were to tell me that she loved me.
I still miss my Grandma Hasemeyer and still have many things I wish I could ask her. But I'm not
complaining. I feel like I'm sure you do. I had the very best grandma in the world!
I'll be back in a few days with one more "oldie and hopefully goody". Have a great week. See you from the porch!
do a little essay about her. Grandma was always a "hoot". In her later years she had a form of
dementia, and though that could be sad, most of the time she was funny and cute and very, very jolly.
She always knew me which helped. It helped a lot.
I'm going to publish that "years ago" essay and hope that you enjoy it. Rather than re-writing it in
the past tense, I'm going to leave it in the tense in which I originally wrote it. So, in honor of
Grandma and Mother's Day, here it is.
***
"Talking With Grandma"
"So, you're on your way to work," said my Grandma, one morning as I stopped by for an early
morning visit. "I wish I had a job," she said. The remark caused me to smile, as it always does. It
was a remark that Grandma makes many times daily. Her mind is not clear much of the time. She
still lives alone, although she probably shouldn't. Most days she isn't aware of the month or the
year, unless we tell her. She repeats herself a lot and much of the time, doesn't recognize most
people. But her sense of humor and self respect are still very much intact. At 87 years of age, she
can't quite accept the fact that her "working days" are over.
From the time she married in 1919, she never held a job outside her home. She did, however, raise
a family of four active children, as well as a very large garden - every year. In her spare time she did hemstitching for people, quilted and managed to find time to sell produce from her garden. Certainly her life has been busy and productive and she has earned a rest. And still....she wishes she had a job.
In a day when many people resent the day-to-day routine of working outside the home and look
forward to the glorious days of retirement, I find Grandma's attitude truly refreshing. She never
tires of asking if there are little odd jobs she can do for me, such as washing dishes, folding clothes,
etc. And when possible, such as on the day I attempted this interview, I do find small chores for her
to do while she's at my home. Later on, after work, Grandma was at my house. She readily accepted the job of cleaning vegetables for me.
Several years ago, Grandma moved from her large home with ample yard to a small apartment in
an elderly housing complex - right across the street from me. She always loved doing yard work or
just sitting in the yard or in the swing on her front porch. Now her days are filled mostly with
television, looking through old photograph albums or visiting with her neighbors. Even though she
isn't able to enter fully into the conversations with her neighbors, due to her confusion, she still
enjoys hearing people talking and knowing that she isn't alone.
On this particular day, I said, "Grandma, what would you really like to do with your time?"
"Oh, I don't know. But I used to be very busy," Now she just wants to feel the world around her
and know that she is still a part of it.
Grandma gets excited about such little things, like a picture of a horse, or cow or chicken. She'll look
for hours at a picture or book with animals and over and over again, will remark, "Isn't that a pretty
horse?" or "I used to milk cows." At that point I know that Grandma's thoughts are returning to
the days when she was very young, when she lived with her family on a farm. On this particular day
Grandma seemed interested in a calendar picture of a horse. I asked her what types of
horses she had when she was a girl. Her eyes lit up as she smiled and said, "Oh, I just loved my
bay mare that I used to ride to school." That small fact, which she found somewhere in her fading
memory, is priceless to me. Somehow it helps me to piece together just a little more of the picture
I long for in my mind of that pretty young brunette girl so long ago.
Each time I question her about the days of her youth, her memory grows a little dimmer. And when
I think she's forgotten her youth completely, she'll surprise me with another momentary memory, a
jewel from the past.
When I take Grandma with me as I run errands, she loves to stay in the car in the parking lot and
watch people. She enjoys sitting and watching the world go by. She smiles and waves to everyone
she sees, never hesitating to speak to someone she doesn't know. She's never stressed and doesn't
relate to the words 'rush' or' hurry'. In her quiet way, she reminds me to slow down.....and enjoy.
Grandma raised me from the time I was 14, along with my two sisters and brother. She relished
having us with her and I've always felt that it kept her young and active. She was, more or less,
forced to listen to our music, watch our television shows and get to know our friends. And she did,
with enthusiasm. But when left to her own devices, she loved to watch such shows as 'Tony Orlando
and Dawn' and wrestling! We teased her about these shows all the time. Now when she watches
TV, she has trouble following the story lines and seems confused about what is actually taking
place on the screen. Only occasionally will she remark about a humorous comment or incident in the
story. Something that I find amusing though, is that she always asks me if I know the people on the
screen, and if those same people are at my house. I just smile and assure her that they are.
As Grandma cleaned vegetables on this day, I asked her. "How old do you think I am?" She looked
thoughtful and said, "Well, I don't know. Maybe 83!" Since she is 87, it's very obvious to me that age has ceased to be of much importance to Grandma!
The older I become the more aware I am of the value of having known my grandmother. Somehow
she has shown me the broader spectrum of things.....the deeper meanings of living.....and dying.
And she's done it by just living her life, day by day, simply and quietly. Grandma was never an avid
reader. She's never driven a car. And I don't believe I've ever known her to belong to any group
or organization, except for her church. She's known immense grief in her life and has remained
kind and caring and jolly. She never speaks badly of people and always tries to find good in those
around her. I'm moved by the thought that I should try harder to pattern myself after her example.
Grandma may be confused, her memory less than perfect, but her good and loving ways and her
faith in God far outweigh all other aspects of her life. When I grow old I hope to be loving and caring, jolly and excited by life, just like my Grandma.
***************
Well, if you're still with me, thanks for coming along on this sentimental ride. I'm sure that this has been much more cathartic for me than it has for you. (smile). Grandma passed away in 1990.
On the day she died, she ate a bunch of cookies, which she sweetly requested from the hospital
kitchen. She made us smile and even laugh. And her last words were to tell me that she loved me.
I still miss my Grandma Hasemeyer and still have many things I wish I could ask her. But I'm not
complaining. I feel like I'm sure you do. I had the very best grandma in the world!
I'll be back in a few days with one more "oldie and hopefully goody". Have a great week. See you from the porch!
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