Mom - The “F.W.”
It’s a scene that could be found anywhere across America.
A gathering of a dozen or so 9 year-old boys in a refurbished basement
celebrating the birthday of one of their peers.
It just so happens that this basement was my basement in The Bronx…
and I was the birthday boy.
And as can be expected in any of those boy birthday parties…
there was lots of wrestling, yelling, teasing and throwing of cake.
But then came the unexpected…
Suddenly, coming down the stairs to the basement…
was a beautiful lady,
dressed in a pale blue, “flow-y”, dress up gown,
her hair coiffed , her make-up applied.
The cake-throwing stopped…as did the yelling.
The 9 year-old boys weren’t quite sure how to react.
Basically they stared, silently, mouths agape.
But then the silence was broken.
The beautiful lady began to sing. But it was not “Happy Birthday”…
No, it was a torch song from the ‘40’s…”That Old Feeling” !?!
The singing was a bit off…
but the presentation was mesmerizing.
As the beautiful lady worked the room…
her singing was underscored by the fluid movements
of her waved chiffon scarf.
Soon there was some snickering…then chuckling…then laughs.
This didn’t seem to bother the beautiful lady…
in fact, I’m pretty sure that was the entire point of her performance.
Truth is, the audience, while a bit perplexed,
seemed to really enjoy it.
I know I did.
The beautiful woman was my Mom.
And rather than being embarrassed…
I was kinda proud.
It was funny…and strangely cool..
Most of all…it was who my Mom was.
She was anything but ordinary.
Truly one-of-a-kind.
She called herself an “F.W.”… “An “Effin’ Wonder”.
And she was.
She and my dad, very simply, had the best marriage in history.
They adored each other.
They met when she was 13, he was17.
She was 17 when they got married.
All their lives they were best friends, co-workers and lovers.
Oh sure there was some yelling and playful arguing...
but…they were still making out on the couch
up until the day she passed away…
(Way too young at age 69.)
She was a “working Mom”, working side by side with my Dad
at their floor covering store.
But somehow…it always seemed that she was also at home…
to cook, to help with homework, to play games, to talk to.
Not quite sure how she pulled off this magic??
She was extremely creative. Way ahead of her time. Had a style all her own.
Everywhere you looked in our house you’d see her touches…
the pink and black bathroom, with hanging black mesh, like a Dali-esque circus…
the magazine rack she de-coupaged with magazine covers
…and our famous (within my family) “Art Gallery”!
My mom loved modern art.
Given that we were a middle-class family in the Bronx…
needless to say…our “collection” had no “originals”.
Instead, my mom would tear out pages from art books or magazines
and create amazing, intricately designed “picture frames “for them.
Our “gallery” consisted of about 25 of these framed “masterpieces”
completely covering the wall along our staircase.
I would pass the gallery, several times, every day of my life...
observing, noticing new additions and maybe even appreciating it,
(as much as an unsophisticated Bronx boy can).
I remember one of the works…a Picasso “painting”…
a harlequin looking at a beautiful lady in an orange sarong.
Years later, freshman year in college, Art 101…
I’m looking through my Janson’s “Introduction to Art”…
And there it was!
The harlequin looking at a beautiful lady in a…Wait! What?
There was no orange sarong!? The lady was NUDE! NAKED!
Seems my mom had cut out a “sarong” from orange construction paper
to cover the beautiful lady…
and shield the innocent eyes of her young (horny) son!!!
My Mom was creative in her cooking as well.
She was an AMAZING cook!
I looked forward to dinner every night.
After a long, hard day at work…
not only did she somehow manage to put a delicious, always “interesting” meal on the table…but she “named” every dish!
When I would ask “What’s for dinner?”
she'd answer “Melody” or “Celebration” or “3-way Shrimp”.
And for big family Thanksgivings? Don’t even ask!
Her “mothering” was creative as well.
We always played games at every meal (Password, Trivia, Name that Tune).
She got me to read when I didn’t want to…
by giving a dramatic reading to some book or story…
and then stopping at the most crucial part… and handing me the book…
And at Christmas/Chanukah (we had a Jewish “Christmas”) …
after a long, exhausting day of my whole family working
at my Grandfather’s store in Brooklyn…
she’d stay up all Christmas Eve at her sewing machine
to “make” clothes for my sister’s dolls and my action figures.
(Giving all the credit to Mrs. Claus).
She did all of this…
while suffering a rare circulation problem
that often left her fingers and toes painfully numb.
Plus she had pretty constant digestive issues…
and lots of other unpleasant stuff.
But she never complained.
“I’m fine”, she’d always say.
And she was beautiful…
in an sometimes “earthy”, sometimes “glam”, most times “sexy” kinda way.
She looked a bit like Susan Hayward.
Liked to show off her curvy body in tight styles and bold colors.
Her hair was…ummm…dark brown, light brown, redhead, almost blonde…depending on the week.
In just about every home movie,
she’d be languorously, posing “funny-sensuous”…
like an Italian film star…
usually ending each “scene” by coming right up and kissing the camera.
Now, in full disclosure…
she could be a bit polarizing.
Most everyone who knew her…absolutely adored her!
But her fuddy-duddy distractors might offer that….
"Jeannie" danced a bit too much,
laughed a bit too much,
talked a bit too much,
enjoyed her vino a bit too much.
She was…well…a bit “too much”.
But with all her “wackiness”…
there was no one who was more kind, giving, loving, funny,
sensitive, supportive to everyone she knew...
family or friends or often strangers.
I think of her every single day of my life.
I share her “words of wisdom” with my friends and my kids.
I can close my eyes and relive story after story, moment after moment..
And I smile.
She just may have been the original “Forever Kid”.
Would love to hear your memories of your Moms.
