More on Mom

I attended Marilyn Imming's funeral today. It was a beautiful service on a beautiful day in a gorgeous church with a fantastic singer. Marilyn would be so proud. Her family is very nice-looking. And I told Deb and Bec what Mrs. Wilcox told my sisters and me when she came to Dad's visitation. "None of you got fat either". Funny what sticks in your head from those events of your life.

So the events of this past month - Marilyn's lung cancer decline and death - got me to thinkin' (I know - dangerous stuff) about my mom and her death. It's been so long ago now - some 12 years since she died.

Pat Bullock wasn't easy to have as a mother. First I must say she was pretty smart - as she graduated near the top of her class at the University of Iowa. I found out (from Aunt Marty when we were in Denver) just why Mom and Dad got married after a short engagement. Mom was going to go to Paris before her senior year of college. When she got to New York City, the Korean War broke out. Dad was a ROTC guy and they knew he'd be called up eventually. So they got engaged in July and married the fall of their senior year.

Then Mom was preggers in 3 months and Susi was born just one year past their first anniversary. Long story short, they ended up back in good ol Atlantic - Dad's home town. Not too glam for a bright and beautiful college grad. She wasn't ever one of those little homemaker moms. I'm glad she raised us to be independent and self confident. (Though it took me practically until I was a mommy to get that way).

Somewhere along the line during Mom's life, she became very bitter. And, like many of her generation, she calmed her bitter nerves with her drug of choice - bourbon. Dad liked to drink too - perhaps even more than mom, but he was a fun drinker. She was not.

Mom was one of those "smart" drinkers. When she had her cocktails, she thought she was pretty f'in smart. She'd try to pick your brain, engage you in deep conversation. The stuff she wouldn't talk about sober. I'm sure she was frustrated over what "might have been" had she been born in a different age. Or married a different guy, in another town. Whatever.

Near the end of her life, when I was a young mother, she and Dad lived in Florida each winter in my fave place Marco Island. Paradise. For some reason she liked to call me after a couple pops (I could tell right away from her slurring voice) to get me going. Right about meal time for the family. Or she would call Cindo who wisely got caller ID. She'd complain about Dad and say how miserable she was.

I finally got fed up and yelled and screamed at her. That was after reasoning wouldn't work. I'd say "Leave him or suck it up". She'd say she wouldn't be left a pauper. And on it would go. Finally I would hang up, frustrated and angry. It was a sad way for a woman to live - someone with that much going for her. I believe she was clinically depressed, even before she was diagnosed. When she got sick, the calls stopped. Chemo took away her penchant for bourbon, but cancer soon took away her personality.

I made a vow never to drink every night like my folks did. So I'm more of a binge drinker - ha! Plus I'm a happy drinker. None of that morose feeling sorry for my self - at least until the hangover.

Mom and I had some good times too - and those are the things I thought about today. I miss her. I'm mad that she didn't get to know Amy and Jud as the great people they are today. How proud she would be of all her grandchildren. She woulda made a great old lady. Sans the booze and the attitude.