For Mom's 99th Birthday

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.