Wednesday, May 8, 2013



    Mother's day is Sunday and I miss my mom. She's been gone awhile now and I remember the good times, the fabulous stories she told, the encouragement she always gave me and the woman I wish was here so I could share the stories I make up with her.
     When I was a little girl, she always made up tales to pass the time on rainy days and told me, "true yarns," about the family. Mom would never hesitate when it came to adding local color. For a while she sold inexpensive hats to make a few extra dollars and she was quite the salesperson. She'd adjust the hat on the customer and tell her how becoming it was. Tilt the hat in another direction and encourage the lady to look in the mirror. "You look just like the model in Vogue, that's the way she wears the hat." The customer always bought the hat, sometimes two or three and returned often to buy more.
     Mom grew up in Rhode Island and told me how she and my Uncle Johnny were crossing a field when a bull attracted by her red dress began to chase them. They ran faster and faster and took refuge in the Old Soldiers Home where they were served cookies and milk. After my uncle returned from the war, mom told him he would always be able to live at that home when he was old and frail.
     There was the story about the landlord of the little house that they rented visiting them at Thanksgiving. Grandpa--a new immigrant with seven children--thought the landlord wuld disposess them. Instead, he gifted grandpa with seven chickens--one for each child.
     My favorite story is the one mom told about the Russian Countess who had no children of her own and took a great liking to my Aunt Betty. When the Cossacks rode through their town, the Countess hid my grandparents and Aunt Betty until they could escape to America--the promised land. My cousin said it was a neighbor who hid the family but I like the story much better the way my mother told it.

Family stories, anyone?



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