Marissa sent me an article by Ann Hood about her mother and her mother’s friends, who met every Friday night to play cards, the ones who went to school together and still lived within a mile of each other. It was shared on the blog yesterday.
Of course it made me think of my mother and her gang. The three basic members who met when they got their first jobs selling magazine subscriptions door to door, marrying guys from the same social club and having daughters at the same time. Olga remains with us (I love you, although you may doubt me because I am a bad correspondent), still able to tell a good joke and remember the punch line, something my mother was not able to do. My mother was extraordinarily witty, but jokes with a beginning, middle and end were not her thing. The quick remark that left you faint with laughter, that was Shirl.
My mother and her friends were not into card parties (that was my grandmother’s time), just the occasional hand of bridge… they were into fortune tellers and eating lunch out and chasing fire trucks and gossip. Together they left me the gift of Sylvia, all of them put together are Sylvia. Thank you.
If you would like to share a story about your mother, please send it in!