Today is Mom’s birthday and, if she were alive, I think that
she would have been delighted at the idea that she is 99 years old. The older I get, the more difficult it is for
me to remember Mom as she was when I was growing up – well over 50
years ago now. About a dozen years back
Ed, Judi and I put together a little chapbook called “Stories of the Northen
Family” as a Christmas gift for Mom, recounting a few things that we remembered
from our childhoods. I thought it might
be fun on her birthday to try to come up with memories of her that we might
have and other family members might not remember. I am just going to post a couple below and
hope anyone who has something to add will do that.
1. Report cards – The
important thing for Mom about our report cards was not our academic
grades; she understood that we were not
all destined to be scholars. What did
upset her, though, was our conduct grades.
A bad grade in conduct or a negative comment about how we had behaved in
school would upset her because she believed our behavior was something under
our control. I was lucky not to have
much problem in that area. One report
card in particular stands out for me, though, and that is one that I received in sixth grade. In the comments on the back of the card, my
teacher thanked Mom for all of her help on a class trip and went on to tell Mom
that she held her and the rest of her family in very high regard. I think now of how proud Mom must have felt
to read those words. Knowing that her
kids were growing up to be good people was always the most important thing to
her.
2. Reading - To say the least, reading was not a major leisure
activity in our house growing up. I
remember that Mom subscribed to Better
Homes and Gardens and Good
Housekeeping, which she would look at occasionally, and she would read
novenas. Dad, when he had time, would
look at the evening or Sunday newspaper.
I can’t remember either of them ever picking up a book. Nevertheless, it was because of Mom that I
grew up reading and learning to love reading.
Some of my earliest memories are of the “Little Golden books” of the
early 1950’s such as “The Little Red Hen” or “The Little Engine That Could”
that Mom would sit and read to me before I could read myself.
Throughout our childhood, Mom always had a bookshelf with a thick red Bible on it and other books that she hoped would encourage us. From as far as my memory goes back, we had an
ancient set of encyclopedias with print so small and close together (and out of date) that no one ever opened them. As we got
older, though, she would enroll us in book clubs. I remember that when I was in the 5-6 grades, we would receive a book a month in the mail. Even though most of these were not our own
choices, I looked forward to getting them.
During that time period, she would always make sure that we would make
it to the book mobile that stopped bi-weekly outside the apartment complex
where we lived. Later, she went all out and bought a set of Compton’s Pictured
Encyclopedias. These were inviting, easy
to read encyclopedias with big color picure sections on areas that would interest young
readers, and poured over these -especially the picture of animals - constantly.
The biggest sacrifice that she made to reading, however,
came the summer after my ninth grade. Dad had just returned, we were still living
with Grandma and Grandpa Wilkins and we barely had a pot to piss in. I’d seen a
post card in a magazine advertising a 54 volume set of books called The Great Books of the Western World that
included work by Darwin, Plato, Dante and other writers I was interested in
reading. I mailed the card requesting more information, but to my great
embarrassment a salesman showed up at the door instead. After his demonstration, they bought the books for me. In the long run it was a good
investment. They stayed with me through
college and I still have them in my own library today. I still don’t know how
Mom managed to afford those which, even at the time, cost several hundred
dollars. Every time I look at them, I recognize the memorial they are to all that Mom
tried to do for us. Certainly, without
all of her efforts I would not have developed the passion for the written word that
I have.
Well, those are just two strings of memories that come back
when I think about Mom on her birthday.
I definitely invite other family members to add on their own
recollections.
