My mom Claire came and went ON TIME. If the invitation said 1:30…she’d be there precisely 1:30. God forbid you caused a delay that caused her to be a tad late. Even for open-ended events like backyard BBQ's, to her, 1:30 meant 1:30. This put her at great odds with my brother Nick whose idea of a 1:30 invite usually meant somewhere around 2:45. When we’d get to Nick’s house for the aforementioned BBQ, he and his wife would still be browsing the aisles at Costco’s. No matter. WE were on time.
We knew something was terribly wrong when mom stopped eating. Let’s face it, our family gatherings always revolved around “when are we gonna eat?" and "what’s for dessert?" Mom loved lobster, chocolate and nuts. Aside from those treats, she ate very simply. In our family, food and weight issues were of great continual concern. Mom’s meals consisted of reasonable portions of healthy food. When she cooked, her portion control was precise. One pork chop (never double cut) and one plain baked sweet potato each with a side of braised cabbage with apples. Although she was always worried about our weight, leftovers were entirely unacceptable. "C’mon, finish this!" she’d command, scraping the tablespoon or so of cabbage left in the bowl, loathe to save or throw it away.
Mom hated excess and would huff and puff and mutter under her breath at any event where she thought there was too much food. As the food poured into her home on the day of her wake I could hear her voice loud and clear and quite agitated: “Oh for god’s sake! Too much! TOO MUCH!” That day? I had to agree. The fruit baskets, the trays of wraps, cold cuts, lasagnas, pastries, cookies, and breads kept coming and coming and coming. Her tiny kitchen overwhelmed, I stuffed them on the floor in the porch and even in the bedrooms.
Most importantly, all my friends loved my mom. She was the life of every one of my gatherings. She was funny, opinionated, savvy and engaging. She was the first to start lively conversations about women’s issues and politics. She loved "discussing" everything. She particularly enjoyed trying to engage my rightie brother Nick in what was always inevitably futile conversations.
Speaking of politics, mom voted for Ralph Nader each and every time he ran for president and much to her continual disappointment he never garnered enough votes to make the difference she was hoping for. All this made her a loner amongst all the conservatives in Bay Ridge where she lived her entire life. She didn’t mind, up to the bitter end, she kept busy with going to the local library to discuss the latest choice for her beloved book clubs. (Why bother to buy the book when you can read it for free?) She loved literature, music, theater and all the arts. An artist herself, she'd cloister herself in her studio and paint abstract canvases for hours every day.
Mom was an agnostic, never presuming she knew the “truth” about anything (except when it came to politics, where she was pretty sure sure republicans were WRONG!) Watching and hearing some of her visitors in her last days here on earth whispering in her ear that "soon you’ll be with Jesus” I imagined she was thinking “What about Buddha? and Gandhi? won't they be there?” Like my also-non-church-going dad, mom was much more of a Christian then all of those who outwardly proclaimed to be. She was kind and never lived in judgment of anyone. (Well, except for those Republicans.) She is greatly missed. I love you mom.
1 comment:
Thank you for this moving memoir of Claire. I remember so many tasty, clean suppers at her home. And her appreciation for healthy, homey food... and for those who prepare it with love. What a class act she was, in every sense and on every level. She will always have the seat of honor at the feast table in my heart.
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