Mothers

I talked about my dad the other day. It was good, since I needed to remember him and the important things he taught me. For too long I have carried some negative memories in my heart; resentment that needs to be washed away. I still have some work to do in that respect

You see, my dad left my mom in 1958. Charlie and I married in '57, and we left for Hawaii believing all was well. A letter came while we were living in Waikiki, waiting for Navy housing. "Your father left me soon after you started your trip across country....." It was a long letter, so full of emotion that I didn't want to read it. I was alone at the time. I was expected to join the other wives at the beach. I couldn't bring myself to go, and when one of them came to see why, I couldn't speak the words. I didn't cry, couldn't cry. I withdrew, and told no one.....

It is said that divorce causes children to feel undeserved guilt: "Did I do something to cause this? I wish I had just stayed out of their way. What if....? What if....? I wish I didn't ask for that bicycle for my birthday..." And I understand clearly where that comes from. I, though I was 21, an adult, felt the same way. No logic, just pain...hurt...wishing I could fix things.

Mom was a good wife. Dad was a good man. There were things related to his position, entertaining and such, that she happily, willingly participated in. She hosted dinners at our house that would make Martha Stewart notice.....An excellent cook, Mom was well schooled in etiquette, and fun to boot!.

A beautiful table set with family sterling, her English Bone China on a white damask cloth, candles, fresh flowers.... I remember wild duck, shot by my dad, one for each guest. I have no doubt that she could have managed the position of "First Lady" equally well. My dad and I were proud of her.

Each morning she would get up and prepare breakfast for the four of us. Eggs, bacon, OJ, milk, toast, coffee, all the traditional things the people of that generation ate in the morning. I would set the table with the same sterling. We always ate together. Always!

My dad would walk out to the only car we had and leave for work. Mom walked behind him in her housecoat and slippers; a quick kiss, and she and I would stand there till the car disappeared

She was a real asset to him in other ways. Whether she was going to the market or attending a cocktail party she always looked nice...no, she looked pretty! She wore make-up to town, make-up and cologne when my dad was expected home. She had a friend whose husband was director of Washington National Airport. They had no children. Money, to Juanita, was intended for her use to buy clothes, and buy she did!

Each new season she would buy a new wardrobe, and call my mom to come and look at her "discards". Mom paid for them, but she would come home with the most beautiful outfits, costing her a fraction of what Juanita paid for them. So Mom looked quite the "fashionista", and since they traveled in different circles, no one was the wiser! I always admired my mother for ingenuity in satisfying her champagne taste on the family's beer budget!

So, that said, why did my dad leave my mom? I don't think they communicated. Mom's way of expressing her dissatisfaction was to nag. And Dad's way of dealing was to clam up. She was impatient. He, too, was impatient in his own way. Painting the living room was torture for all of us. She was very picky about how it was done. He just wanted to do it! "You missed a spot!" "Evelyn, would you just let me do it?" "I'm just trying to show you that you missed a spot!" (Aaaaarrrrrggggghhhh!)

In retrospect, I think my dad had a pretty severe case of not only depression but stubbornness. The last thing he would have done was visit a marriage counselor, and, heaven forbid, a shrink!!
In those days the only meds they had were valium and such. Antidepressants hadn't even been thought of. And when women complained, they weren't helped, just told to go buy a new hat. Aaarrrggghhh again!!

I have a black and white picture of the two of them sitting on two wicker chairs in "Kaiser's Cottage", a beach house we rented each summer. They look like two movie stars, and the energy you can see between them is electrifying. So, I know it was there..too bad it went....

Mom and dad met in Springfield, Mass. He was working at Westinghouse after graduating from VMI. She at Meekins, Packard, and Wheat (don't know nothin' about that place!) Not sure how long they courted, but the day they married, a boyfriend came by the house and asked to see Evelyn. My grandmother told him she had eloped. His response: "Well, guess I'll go play golf!" She loved to tell that story!