We seem to be in a place of change as a nation, and as a people. The phrase above has been in the news, of late. Being a member of the “senior” category of citizens- wait, sorry, that is probably another of those words that is not acceptable to many of these times- I think it is important to remember what it actually means.
On this morning, permit me a digression from modern times and imaginary sensibilities. The woman who carried and birthed me, her first, is one of the most remarkable people I have met in my life. She was valedictorian of her high school class in a little town on the big brown Ohio River. Despite the clouds of conflict in Europe and the distant Pacific, she determined she would go to college, first in her line, and followed (with some ingenuity) the accelerated pace of education of the war years to generate men for induction into the Armed Forces.
In so doing, she was noticed by one of her professors, who took a position with the Texas Corporation, now known as Texaco. He was needed to help provide the means to win a war. He, in turn, required help managing his office in the famed Chrysler Building in glittering Manhattan. Mom was the lady he asked to come help him accomplish the mission of providing petroleum to the forces engaged in defeating fascism, and eliminating that scourge from from the world.
Mom set her sights high. And she accomplished them.
Much later, I talked to her about the moment after she decided to accept the position, and what her Mother did to help her out. Grandma was another in the line of extraordinary women. She walked young Betty down to the train station, told her to be brave, and put her on the steps to the passenger car for the trip from the big river to New York. Alone. I don’t know if she was unafraid, but I do know that she did it. On her own, and with the quiet determination and courage she showed all of her blessedly long life.
Later in life, friends said if she signed up with an organization engaged in a worthy cause- re-writing the Michigan State Constitution, managing the local League of Women Voters, becoming the authoritative source for Earnest Hemingway’s time in the little city Up North on the big Lake. She made everything she touched in her life better. And, most special in the halls of memory, she laughed at the uncertainties of life, and never buckled to the pressures of a new century or to anything else that challenged her sense of what was right and good.
On this day- the one some of us want to re-imagine as something else- I want to remember her. A great Mom. An inspiration. And a source of love that will live long after her time in this world.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom! Miss you.
Copyright 2021 Vic Socotra
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