Christmas Carol

Decided to post a little early this week to honor Mother’s Day and a happy day to all you dedicated moms out there. This is a picture of my mom, my sister Molly, and me back in the day. My mother was a character to say the least and here are a few anecdotes to honor her on Mother’s Day.

First off, my mom loved Molly and me unconditionally, but loved my father first and foremost. Seems like that is the recipe for a happy marriage to put your spouse first and then the kids. My mom must have really loved my father because she did so much for Molly and me. Imagine how dedicated she was to my father if she treated us so well? But again- getting back to the fact that she was a character. My mother had perfect pitch and was always singing at parties. She had a beautiful voice and the main reason I kept playing the piano as a kid was to accompany her singing. Walking in the rain and the snow to my piano lessons was all worth it when I heard my mom sing. In later years, when I parked cars at Shannopin Country Club, I was ready to call it a night when I heard my mom start to sing. I told the boys we better order a pizza because it was going to be a long night. When my mom started to sing, we were there for the duration.

Mom and yours truly at Lake Erie.

I remember when I first learned to swim. I was afraid to take my deep- water test at 5 years old and my mom looked at Don Geyer and told him to throw me in. She knew I could swim, and she knew I had to overcome my fears. Much to the horror of her friends who were all sitting poolside in hysterectomy row, she told them all that the water would get deeper and deeper every year. When I swam to the side with a big smile on my face, my mom looked at me and said,” You can do anything you want to do in life, Patrick.” And then she told Don to throw me off the diving boards.

I used to swim at the Northside Y, and one night when my dad picked me up, I told him I saw the police come into the lobby and chase down a guy with a knife that had stabbed someone. It was fairly alarming to a young guy, but my mom told me that life was not all about the suburbs. She had no problem with me witnessing the other side of the tracks. Same when I worked at St. Joe Paper Company as a laborer in the summers during college. I told her all about the shenanigans in the “bottoms” of McKees Rocks and she once again told me that it was good for me and would teach me how to deal with all kinds of people. She was right.

Young Pat with the ski outfit put together by my mom. LOL!!

My mother was not much of an outdoors person or athletic for that matter. But she made sure my sister and I learned to swim, play tennis, and ski. I always joke when people ask me if my parents skied. I said “no” for my dad who had a bad back and yes for my mother. She skied 3 feet. When she fell back and hit her head, she told her friend Virginia Ruth to” “take the damn things off”. But she made sure Molly and I learned. When Bob Rose used to pick us up for the weekend, she cooked our dinner on Friday at 3:00 and made sure we were ready to go when Mr. Rose was in the driveway. Then she entertained the whole lot with pots of chili when we all got back on Sunday.

I was able to drive my mother’s ’64 Buick Special convertible in high school. My dad outfitted it with heavy snow tires and concrete bags in the trunk for the winter. On a snow day, my mom said, ” school is cancelled- are you going skiing?” Kind of hilarious in that she knew that I was hell bent to go skiing in those instances and she was fully supportive. Ever since she rear -ended a garbage truck, she was hesitant to drive and eventually quit. Giving me her car was the perfect excuse. But again, whatever she could do to support us as our mother was readily apparent.

My mother loved Christmas. In fact, all her friends called her Christmas Carol in that she always orchestrated a huge Christmas Eve party at our house every year. It was so well attended and was a lot of work for all of us, but relatives, friends, and neighbors were all welcome. Eventually, I told my mom that if she kept inviting people, we would have to switch the venue from our house to a banquet hall. We all laughed at that, but my mom was intent on always entertaining year- round, but especially at Christmas. She gave a lot of people a lot of happiness in those years and some of them really needed the friendship and the care. She always told me that ” happiness is like a perfume. You can’t sprinkle it on others without getting a little on yourself.” Her friends and relatives were everything to her and her dedication to their happiness was heartwarming.

The house on Pineview Drive. The Christmas Eve venue

In later years, my mom didn’t understand my love for competition and events. I ran the Boston Marathon one year and I remember sitting on my parent’s deck at the house and was so excited to relay my experience. The crowds on Commonwealth Ave., the Newton Hills, the Wellesley College girls screams heard miles away, the finish near Fenway Park and the Green Monster welcoming us home. My mom looked at me and said, ” well that’s nice- would you like some more potatoes?” She just didn’t get it, but ironically, she started it all. I would come home from Tuckerman Ravine after camping and skiing for a week and explaining the steepness of the terrain and the chunks of ice and rock that fell which were the size of a Volkswagen. She would look at me with kind of a blank look and say- ” more potatoes?”

My mom had lots of friends as she was fond of saying ” to have a friend is to be a friend.” In the end days when she was receiving lots of blood transfusions, she was always positive. She said she just got up in the morning, washed her face, and kept going. Nothing stopped her. She used to look at me when I walked her up the steps after my dad had passed and she would laugh and say ” how the hell did I get so damn old.” Even when she was quite ill, she and Mary Struk and Sally Rose would go to the “club” which was Grant’s Bar in Millvale. She loved Grant’s Bar and one day when the big flood came, the police came into the bar and basically kicked them all out saying, ” if you ladies don’t leave now, we will be taking you out in a row- boat.” The ice machine from the Grant Bar was floating down the street minutes later. The gals got out just in time.

My mom was a character but if it were not for her persistence, I don’t know whether I would have had the exuberance that I have for skiing, and other outdoor endeavors. She always pushed me, and I am forever grateful that she did. I enjoy a lot of things because of my mom. I miss her as she had been gone 20 years. But I will always remember her smile, her beautiful voice, her fabulous meals, and her kindness to friends and relatives. Someday I will see her again – forever. In the meantime- Happy Mother’s Day in Heaven mom. Thanks for reading and always cherish your mom.

The relatives. Looks like Molly was upset with me. LOL!!

My Unflappable Mom

The scene is 1962- Valley Brook Swimming Club, and I am standing on the deck of the pool, waiting to take my deep water test. I am shivering from the cold, but mostly due to the daunting task of seeing whether I can muster up the courage to jump off the low board and swim to the side of the pool. My mom sees my hesitation and looks at the pool manager, Don Geyer, and tells him to get me up on the board and throw me in. He convinces me, he follows me to the end of the board with no turning back, and pushes me in. I swim to the side and look at my mom and scream, ” I did it!!!” The other ladies sitting around my mom on “hysterectomy row” are aghast and say, “Carol- how can you do that to that little boy?” My mom looks at Don again and says,” take him to the high board.” Same scenario. I dutifully march in front of Coach Geyer and again he pushes me off the high board. I swim to the side with an even bigger smile and my mom says to me, ” Remember- you can do anything you want to do, Patrick.” She then looks up and down hysterectomy row and says to the ladies, ” Girls- that water will get deeper and deeper every year.”

My mom was not much of an athlete but made sure my sister and I learned to swim, ski, play tennis, golf and a myriad of other activities including playing the piano. I loved playing for her. She had perfect pitch and a wonderful voice. My mom actually skied 3 feet in her life. She strapped them on and slid three feet, fell and hit her head and said to her friend to ” take the damn things off.” But she made damn sure we learned to ski and I am forever grateful. She was a wonderful entertainer, and friend to many people who needed a friend. She was tough, but kind and generous. Her famous line was ” to have a friend is to be a friend.” She took that literally and befriended many and took care of those who needed a lift with a kind word, a nice dinner at my folk’s house, or a night on the town.

Fast forward – my mom continued with her life learning experiences for me. While swimming at the Allegheny YMCA, I witnessed a knife fight in the lobby and the police running up the stairs chasing the assailant. Wide eyed, I came home and told my mom who was raised on the Northside of Pittsburgh. Her comment was, ” Not everyone lives in the North Hills, Patrick. You need to see the other side of the tracks.” Similarly, when she dutifully made me lunches and dinners to take to my college summer jobs at St. Joe Paper Company in McKees Rocks, working all three labor shifts, I told her daily tales of the crazies who worked in the box factory. She said I would learn more there than any college class.I would learn about real life. A great experience, she said, for me and my future, whatever it would be.

Things changed over the years and after my dad passed, my mom was lost. They had a great marriage and now she was alone. They had their ups and downs financially but my mother was steady in her relationship with my father until the day he died. She continued her great friendships. She was kind, considerate, and gracious in the good times and in the not so good times. She showed me great grace under pressure.

The day I called her on the phone, and there was no answer, I knew this might be the day. When I found that she had passed away in her apartment, the tears poured from my eyes like a wellspring of emotion letting loose with cherished memories, and love for my mom. A peace came over me when I realized that she was finally with my dad again, in heaven, after 4 long years without him. My mom was a character and I miss her every day.

If you still have your mom, cherish her, honor her, love her like she loved you all of her life. If your mom is gone, remember the good times and the funny times, and the times that she encouraged you to do the impossible. Happy Mother’s Day to all of you out there who are fortunate enough to be moms. You are a wonderful example to all of us. Thanks for reading.