Apr
28th
Last Betty Standing...a Tribute to My Mom
By LynnK
I thought of the television reality show “Last Comic Standing” when
I titled this apt tribute to a mother – who, over the years, has
kept us all in stitches, while – at the same time – tending, as
most mothers do, to the continuously fraying family fiber.
Mom is a real Betty; not a short one –short for Elizabeth that is; and there is a difference. A real Betty has a particular style - a joie de vive – that is at once adventursome and playful and committed and tough...as in "tough beans - you'll do what I tell you to do!"
True Betty's have a deep reverence for life coupled with a profound resolve for disallowing any one thing to make that much of a dent in the overall experience. She cares - deeply - yet is ardently aware of life's inconvenient realities. “It is how it is,” she says with a shrug - whether to an aberrant crop of bug-infested celery or to the death of a close family member.
She is a gem, of course, sparkling with every flash of her million-dollar smile – a split-toothed grin markedly similar to that of Alfred E. Neuman.
According to mom, she’s had a relatively blessed life, with the exception that is of her depression-era underwear, hand-made by her mother (another amazing woman) from a bit of failing elastic and old flour sacks. “Those were a disaster,” she says with a guffaw, “but probably helped my parents afford a college education for all of us.”
Her Eastern European father – arriving alone from Austria at the age of eight – made himself a nice enough life to send her to nursing school at Iowa State. This was a wild adventure for a woman raised in Western Pennsylvania in the nineteen-forties - one that a Betty would most certainly relish.
That is the thing about mom: As a nurse and a woman, she didn't shy away from too many veins. As the opportunities came along, she plucked them no matter the challenge. This Betty took on a nursing career, entered into and won car races, mastered table tennis, married an alcohol-dependent husband and helped him through recovery, gave birth to and raised three girls, and started a private day-care business that at its peak had three centers serving 120 children - and it flourished for nearly 14 years. She did all of this with the same steady resolve demonstrated by her immigrant parents.
Along the way, she has amused many with her characteristic gaffs – namely a clumsy nature and a persistent struggle with dyslexia and intestinal disturbance. The most incredible thing is that she is the first to laugh…and to laugh them off. It is as if she knows their place in life. She knows - and has always known - that she wasn't those "problems," and that life was way too precious to not laugh at them. What a gift to the world, and to our world - as her daughters.
I am thankful that I still have my mom. And it is my sincere hope - for all who know her and who don’t - that she stands as strong and proud and vibrantly comedic until her final day. I love you, mom.
Mom is a real Betty; not a short one –short for Elizabeth that is; and there is a difference. A real Betty has a particular style - a joie de vive – that is at once adventursome and playful and committed and tough...as in "tough beans - you'll do what I tell you to do!"
True Betty's have a deep reverence for life coupled with a profound resolve for disallowing any one thing to make that much of a dent in the overall experience. She cares - deeply - yet is ardently aware of life's inconvenient realities. “It is how it is,” she says with a shrug - whether to an aberrant crop of bug-infested celery or to the death of a close family member.
She is a gem, of course, sparkling with every flash of her million-dollar smile – a split-toothed grin markedly similar to that of Alfred E. Neuman.
According to mom, she’s had a relatively blessed life, with the exception that is of her depression-era underwear, hand-made by her mother (another amazing woman) from a bit of failing elastic and old flour sacks. “Those were a disaster,” she says with a guffaw, “but probably helped my parents afford a college education for all of us.”
Her Eastern European father – arriving alone from Austria at the age of eight – made himself a nice enough life to send her to nursing school at Iowa State. This was a wild adventure for a woman raised in Western Pennsylvania in the nineteen-forties - one that a Betty would most certainly relish.
That is the thing about mom: As a nurse and a woman, she didn't shy away from too many veins. As the opportunities came along, she plucked them no matter the challenge. This Betty took on a nursing career, entered into and won car races, mastered table tennis, married an alcohol-dependent husband and helped him through recovery, gave birth to and raised three girls, and started a private day-care business that at its peak had three centers serving 120 children - and it flourished for nearly 14 years. She did all of this with the same steady resolve demonstrated by her immigrant parents.
Along the way, she has amused many with her characteristic gaffs – namely a clumsy nature and a persistent struggle with dyslexia and intestinal disturbance. The most incredible thing is that she is the first to laugh…and to laugh them off. It is as if she knows their place in life. She knows - and has always known - that she wasn't those "problems," and that life was way too precious to not laugh at them. What a gift to the world, and to our world - as her daughters.
I am thankful that I still have my mom. And it is my sincere hope - for all who know her and who don’t - that she stands as strong and proud and vibrantly comedic until her final day. I love you, mom.
Viewing 1 - 1 of 1
Top Authors
Subscribe
