TO BE

Continued. . .

The little girl on her daddy’s lap is my great-grandmother, Daisy, born in 1880.  She was smart, opinionated, and domineering.  She taught me how to set a proper table, starch pillowcases, buy the best cuts of meat and play Canasta.  She also taught me manners, ‘In case you should dine with the President someday.’  Years later, I would, in fact, share a meal with two Presidents. She thought that women who wore bright, red lipstick were ‘harlots.’  When I was 12, she made me promise that I “would never ever turn out like your mother.”  My mother wore bright, red lipstick.

Daisy’s daughter, Josephine, was my Granny Jo who mostly raised me. She was shy, introverted and quietly religious.  She worked as a high school guidance counselor and taught me the importance of a good education. Ahead of her time, she also composted, made carrot juice, practiced yoga and ate alfalfa sprouts.  When she learned I wanted to be a writer she bought me my first typewriter.  Granny Jo met and quietly disapproved of just about every boy I ever dated.  She insisted I always pay my own way on dates and, “dance with every boy who asks you.”  Her admonitions made me both smart and popular.

Jo’s daughter, my mother, Jo Ann, was a whirlwind of craziness whom I would live with for only six years.  She was a cover girl who spoke four languages and married five times.  She taught me that others rarely see things as they are but rather how they want them to be.  Watching her, I learned it was okay to sing in public as long as you were in tune.  Her oblivion to reality forced me to stay focused on survival and rely on complete strangers for help.  Mother would eventually be committed to Bellevue and talk her way out within days.  That taught me that the people in charge aren’t necessarily in charge.

I have no clue what my own daughters will take from me.  They likely don’t know that yet themselves.  Whatever it is, I hope it is something that will help them love this evolving world as passionately as I have.  So, on this Mother’s Day may we all be grateful for the long line of women who came before us.  The ones who showed us how ‘to be or not to be.’  That has made all the difference!