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Like most other kids growing up in the ’50′s, I learned all the normal things a mother teaches — how to tie my shoes, feed myself with a spoon, then how to use a fork and knife, how to talk and manners! Oh! manners in the ’50′s were MUCH more precise and strictly ruled than manners are today!

I learned how to properly set a table with more than just a fork, spoon and knife. I learned how to iron pants to put  a crease down the center, how to sew on a sleeve and sew on a zipper. I never wanted to learn how to knit or crochet, but when my left-handed sister did, Mom took on the task of teaching her despite the fact that Mom is right handed.

My brother was born with Downs Syndrome, hemophilia and a congenital heart defect. She nurtured him and saw to his mental and physical development until he could do most  of those same things I learned how to do at her knee — feed himself, dress himself, talk and play games. Despite the pediatrician’s prognosis that he would only live a couple of years, he was 13 when he died. During his lifetime, she fought for him to be able to go to public school, fought against the stigma attached to the mentally retarded and fought against institutions where the mentally retarded were treated like experimental guinea pigs all the while retaining her personal values of how a lady conducted herself.

So from her I learned compassion, patience, perseverance and to stand up for what I believed in while maintaining a personal level of comportment.

My Mom was a stay-at-home mom until I reached the grand old age of 13 when she went to work at a department store, showed her management skills early on and the “job” became a career. She eventually began traveling all over the country for the company.

So from her I learned self-reliance, work ethic and commitment.

Mom has always had this quirky sense of humor — I’m sure she got it from HER mom, because I remember seeing Mom Bee’s eyes twinkling at the most unusual things. That was passed on to me as well.

So from her I learned to look at life with an eye to the funny side of it and to never take myself too seriously.

Most people write things like this about their parents after they have left this mortal coil. It’s as if their leaving releases a ton of memories about how life with Mom and Dad was and the act of writing about it (or speaking of it) helps to seal that memory in their minds forever.My mom’s teachings are with me in everything I do. She taught me how to excel as a person and gave me values that will carry me through no matter what life dishes up. I’m so lucky to have had her for my mother.

My mom is 87 years old and still very much alive and full of life as she ever was. I love you, Mom thanks for all the lessons you taught.