Mother's Day was a day I always took for granted when I was young. And now, that most of the "moms" in my life are gone I wish I hadn't.
Old Grandma Barren passed when I was about 4 or 5 years old. My memory of her is so strong it's like it was yesterday that I lost her instead of 50 years ago. Mary Barren was a woman small in stature but to me as large as life itself. My fondest memory of her fixing a small desert plate for herself, always on a diet, yet she would reach over and pick food off your plate. In later years I found out that Old Grandpa loved her enough to bring her to America, not once but twice, having taken her home of Austria because she was homesick. According to Mom, when Old Grandma passed, she came to me told me she had, that she'd be with me always and has been my guardian angel since...I've kept her busy.
Grandma Zaky was my favorite, or so I thought, because she spoiled me. I have hundreds of fond memories of this woman. She taught me to knit, crochet, bake and what it was to spend time with one you love. On any weekend stay with her, I would wake to the smell of bacon and fresh baked bread. We would walk to the bus stop and head downtown to shop at AM&A's then lunch at the Woolworth counter. And as an extra gift from her, I look like her.
Being with Grandma Jake was like being with Mom, who would have known I would have missed her so much. I remember watching her sewing doll clothes for extra money and working her crossword puzzles. But what impressed me most was her love and devotion to her husband. I have never known anyone with that kind of love, including myself. After Grandpa died, she died everyday until they finally pronounced her two years later.
And then, there is my godmother. My mother's sister, Pat. She was called Patsy when she was young, until the day she found out what a "patsy" was...from that day on, she was no one's Patsy. She does not let anyone walk over her and I find as I grow older, she has passed this on to me. Not to the degree she has mastered it but I'm a willing student always learning. My fondest memory of her is not one that I experienced with her but a story that was told by my mom. At one time, my grandparents owned a rabbit farm in West Seneca, at the mouth of what is now the entrance to the 400. They were getting prepared for a move back to Silver Creek and still had some rabbits left. Now one of those rabbits was a three legged little think that the girls (Mom and Aunt Pat) named "Peg Leg". Grandma made stew and used all the rabbits, including Peg Leg. Little Patsy, too young to count very high, never knew that there was an odd number of legs in the stew and assumed that little Peg Leg was given a good home. Very touching story. I wasn't until decades later, after her father died that Aunt Pat learned the truth about the pet. As she sat there in tears at the age of 32, her mother and sister, showing their sympathy, laughed like hell. It amazes me to this day that I knew of Peg Leg's demise before she did.
Evelyn Switzer was not my biological mother but the mom of my childhood best friend. Mrs. Switzer, the mother of seven, had a great sense of humor and was great to have around. She would play board games with us and later go drinking and camping with us. Thinking back on it now, she was probably in her 60s when she would go to the bars with Laurie and I. Bless her she could drink but what alway impressed me more was no matter how much she drink, that woman never had to pee! Looking back, she taught me that just because you become a mom doesn't mean you're life is over.
And then there is my Mom. She was my nurse (and had the cap to prove it), my maid, laundress, tailor, taxi driver, bank, cook and friend. I'm the mom I am today because of her. I have a lifetime of memories of this woman but among them, her dancing in the kitchen singing "If I Were a Rich Man" from Fiddler on the Roof. The look on her face when she realized I was there was a real Kodak moment.
Because of all these women I am proud to say that I am spoiled, I'm crafty, I can cook and bake, I'm feisty. I play hard. I love harder. I would love more than anything that in 50 years, there will be someone that says "and this is was I got from Lynda."
