Well, girls, I know, of late, I have been alluding to T.S.Eliot's famous quote from "The Waste Land," about April being "the cruelest month," and yesterday, in spite of other things, I got a full dose of that.
Yesterday, April 2, was the 32nd anniversary of my Mother's death, which took place in 1979.
I remember it so vividly, but, first , let me say the idea that I am able to say "32 years ago" is not something I could have foreseen back then. Nor could I have foreseen I would be living in Queens, and commuting between two residences with the most loving and charming man I could hope for. If anyone had told me these things, I would have called them crazy, because, back them I envisioned myself as a
habitue of the Ansonia Apartments in Highland Park, New Jersey, with a job in the area, and weekend forays into New York. Mother died of lung cancer. I knew it went on to effect me in an ongoing manner, when I went to see Meryl Streep in "One True Thing," and it was just too close for comfort. I had actually thought about walking out, but, after all, it was Meryl.
A couple of things I do remember. At the same time my mother was dying, so, as it turns out, was our French poodle, Baby Mouse. Eventually she had to be put down, and without telling my mother, when my father and I went to see her, she knew. The other thing was, when we said goodbye, as evening visits ended on April 1, I never thought this was when it would happen. But it did. We went home, to bed. My father got up early next morning to go to work; I was still in bed. At about 6:45, I heard the phone ring downstairs, and knew this was not good. I had a feeling this was it, and I was right. I heard my father talking indecipherable, and then he called me from the foot of of the stairs, saying it was Dr. Whomever. I asked, "Is she...? he said yes. As if this was not bad enough, our radio was going downstairs, and at the moment all this took place, it was a playing a song I had always hated--"Honey," by Bobby Goldsboro, which, because of this association, I cannot listen to it to this day. If I am somewhere, and it comes on, I walk out of the room.
The other thing I remember is, when things had settled, going with my father, the first time without Mother, to visit Aunt Anna, Uncle Henry, and Henry in Rumson, all of whom by now having passed on. On the lawn, near the road, was this elegant metal divan. I remember staring out at the road sitting there, wondering what my life, from that point on, would be like, as it had now been changed irrevocably.
And now here I am thirty two years later, something I never would have thought. I cherish my college graduation pictures, where my mother is truly happy; I am glad she lived to see this, as I know it was important to her. And I think she would be amazed with what I have accomplished in thirty two years, and that I made it out of Highland park.
So it is important I remember and acknowwledge this day, and I having lived to see another passing of it. Now, I must stop, girls, as this is geting too painful.
See you for luncheon, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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