The apple and the tree: seeds planted by parental example....
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| The Parent As A Child |
Planted pinks on the parent’s graves last week. Both died in May, 30 plus years apart. Usually I go with geraniums. Couldn't find any. Too early, or out of fashion, I guess.
This post is about Mom, who died just shy of 87 years old. She was a life long Republican, but oddly, something of a social liberal who leaned left as she aged, who admired Hillary Clinton.
For 25 years Mom worked as what they now call an "admin" at a state police troop and then when they moved that troop out of town, she worked for a few years at a second one that was closer. She was a discrete and loyal an employee as they could hope, never spoke about work things at home. There was a little hint once.
While working at the barracks she got a call for jury duty, Years afterwards she said the case involved a motorcycle accident and she relayed a few of the jury selection questions. Had she ever ridden a motorcycle or knew anyone who had? Why yes, her husband. Before they married they rode around on an old Indian machine until they were hit by a car. Hmm. Because of her job, they asked another question. Would she always take the word of a police officer over anyone else's? That would depend, Mom said, on which police officer. She was dismissed, not sure which side objected.
Mom had a regular New Years Day Open house and invited relatives, friends and associates from work to stop by. Among the annual attendees was a police dispatcher named Minnie who was usually the only black face in the crowd. Minnie commented on this each year, and she was pretty comedic about it. To help us see it from her point of view, Minnie invited Mom to a summer barbecue at her house in Bridgeport where Mom would be the only white face in the crowd. Mom agreed to go and asked me to drive. We were indeed a minority of two. And we were treated as all Minnie's friends and kin were treated: with mint ice tea and welcoming smiles. We stayed all afternoon and went away slightly changed.
It wasn't the first time Mom surprised me. Years before there had been a gay member of the police auxiliary who invited folks from the barracks over to his house for lunch. This was many years ago, another time really and not one of the officers agreed to go, so the boss asked Mom and the troops only police woman to go. On the day, even the police woman backed out. Unwilling to be so rude, Mom went to his luncheon by herself.
I was in my early 20s maybe - and I'm afraid I didn't even know what gay was at the time.. She explained without fuss or judgement, very matter-of-factly that it was when certain men liked other men instead of girls, that this man lived with a male friend, and it was like they were married. She said he was a lovely man, lunch was very nice and she was sad for her host that no one else went.
There was another thing as well - Mom never voluntarily went to church unless there was a wedding or funeral involved.
I asked her about this several times over the years. She always told me she didn't know what she believed. In later years I pressed her and she said she didn't know if she could know if there were a god or not. Maybe there was maybe there wasn't. Yet she told me didn't want to fight about it or even think much about it. If someone said 'pray for me,' she would nod sympathetically. She would never tell them. And now that she is gone, none of them really believe me. Oh well.
