PAWPAW'S MESSAGES TO MY GRANDSONS 59 - Memories of my Mom

PAWPAW'S  MESSAGES TO MY GRANDSONS 59

Pawpaw loves Bryson, Connor and Archer!

Memories of My Mom

   My mother’s name was Sherill May McWilliams Skelley. I called her Mom. Mom was very beautiful as a teen and twenty-something. She looked like an old-fashioned movie star, I always thought. I saw photos of her as a teen wearing a sleeveless fitted dress blouse, Capri pants and sunglasses. She was young, fit, thin and beautiful.

   When I close my eyes and try to picture her as an adult, I remember her wearing pant suits with coordinated slacks and tops. Mom liked to dye her hair red or light reddish brown. She wore red finger nail polish and lipstick. She reminded me a little of young beautiful Lucille Ball.

   If I close my eyes, I can picture her right now, about 35 years old on a summer day, wearing a scarf on her head and sunglasses on her eyes, looking like Jacqueline Kennedy in the 1960s. She smiles as a looks over Atwood Lake and a breeze ruffles the hair that sticks out under the edges of her scarf. She had a great smile and a slight country accent from growing up in a town named Barnesville.

   I don’t remember Mom working during most of my childhood but I do remember her working part-time with Grandma McWilliams as a cleaning lady in an office building in downtown Canton, Ohio across from Church of the Savior United Methodist Church for some time period. They cleaned the offices in the evenings after the doctors and business people left. Sometimes they brought me with them and I helped out a little. I remember Grandma saying she was often stuck by syringe needles when she emptied trash cans. It was before there were controls over medical waste.

   Mom and Grandma Mc were mother and daughter but also they were best pals. They laughed constantly when they were together no matter what they were doing. It was great seeing them having fun together and loving each other so much.

   Mom and Grandma Mc were probably the ones most responsible for my love of reading. We would walk from Grandma and Grandpa Mc’s house to downtown Canton. We’d visit the library and the used book store. They’d let me sit and read and get out as many books as I wanted. We’d continue our downtown walks by window-shopping in the stores like Kresges, Woolworths and McCrory’s. Sometimes we would have lunch at the store lunch counter. I have very pleasant memories of those walks, especially at Christmas time when all the city decorations and lights were up and the stores’ front windows were all decorated with shining Christmas trees and enticing gifts. The park in the middle of downtown Canton was made into an ice skating rink.

   Mom was very tactile and very loving. She loved to kiss us on the cheek and hug us. If I sat with her on the sofa or swing, she would hum or sing while she’d gently rub my arm, back or head so softly it almost put me to sleep. Getting up on the cold, Ohio winter mornings for school, no matter how grumpy I was that morning, Mom always walked me to the door and sent me off to school with her wonderful smile and the words, “Honey (or Stevie) have a great day.” I am sure she knew school wasn’t going to be a lot of fun for poor kids like us so she tried to start off the day on a positive note.

   Mom loved listening to music and singing along. She had a record player in the dining room and played records by Elvis and Judy Garland. She also had records of the soundtracks from The Wizard of Oz and West Side Story. Back before there were videos and DVDs, the television broadcasters would air The Wizard of Oz once a year. It was a big deal. Mom always gathered us all together, made inexpensive Chef Boyardee pizza or popcorn and we all watched it together. It was a great family time.

   My Mom and Dad ran off, eloped and got married. I don’t know why. Mom was poor almost all of her life though there were several better years when Dad was working factory jobs and we could make ends meet and even have some fun. When I say poor, I mean so poor that we were on welfare. Mom was embarrassed to have to use food stamps at the local grocery store. Our utilities: water, electric, gas heat were often turned off since Mom and Dad couldn’t pay the bills.

   Mom was hospitalized numerous times and had numerous operations. Dad told me that Mom had as many miscarriages and children. Eventually she would be overcome by pain and the hardships of life and she would unsuccessfully attempt suicide. She was a beautiful, loving, strong woman but she was overwhelmed with the pains of life. In spite of it all, she had a great smile, a great hug, and when she was happy, it was infectious. That’s how I choose to remember her - in those happier times.

   Mom passed away at age 45 - too young. The coroner did an autopsy and ruled it an accidental overdose of prescription medicines. Mom and Dad had decided to go to a Loretta Lynn country music concert. They had won tickets to the concert on a radio call-in contest. When they got home, Dad drove my younger sister Susie’s boyfriend to his house. When Dad got back home, Mom was asleep. Mom never woke up. Apparently, she accidentally mixed up her medicines, fell asleep, and passed away in her sleep. The next morning, Dad thought she was just sleeping in. When she didn’t get up, he checked on her and found she was gone.

   Mom was buried in Barnesville, Ohio next to her best pal, her Mom. She deserved a better life than she got. She died a year before my daughter Steffany was born. Mom would have loved Steffany. They are so much alike with their ability to smile, laugh and reach out to others with love. They would have been pals. I can just imagine all the mischief, love and laughter they would have shared together. I am sorry they never met. It breaks my heart.

   Mom loved visiting Barnesville, Ohio where she was born. She loved visiting relatives there and attending the Pumpkin Festival. She called it the Punkin Festival. I can’t remember if either Mom or Grandma Mc was born on the kitchen table back in the days when doctors made house calls. How things change from one generation to the next!

   When we were little, Mom liked to take us (Skip, Sherry, Susie and me) to Mother Goose Land. It was a small, themed park at the end of the Canton Park system, not far from the McKinley Monument. I think the admission was 10 or 25 cents. The entrance looked like a castle. Mom and Grandma Mc would let us play on the playground and then walk us through the life-sized story-themed prop displays like Wizard of Oz, Ally Babba’s Treasure Cave, Jonah’s Whale, etc. There was also a petting zoo and a set for the Three Little Pigs complete with a wooden wolf, a three pig homes and three live pigs! Pigs are stinky by the way. Sometimes, if there was any spare cash, we each got a marshmallow ice cream cone that probably cost a nickel or dime.

   Mom and Grandma would also take us to the McKinley Monument and have us walk the stairs to the top and then turn and enjoy the view. They also let us play and roll down the grassy hillside to the bottom and sled ride there in the winter and ice skate in the pond.

   My Grandfather Robert Dale McWilliams, my grandmother Virginia Margaret McWilliams and my mother Sherill May McWilliams Skelley all came from a small town, farming community of Barnesville, Ohio. They used different words than I learned in school. As a boy, I was embarrassed by their country talk. As an adult, I learned that their dialect had a very historic background.

   They didn't say "umbrella." They said "bumbershoot." No one else that I knew ever said bumbershoot. Later I learned that bumbershoot was another name for umbrella used mainly in the late 1800's.  Grandma and Grandpa never said "sofa." They always said "davenport." I didn't know anyone but them that called a sofa a davenport. Later, I learned that davenport is a synonym for sofa, especially in the Midwestern United States, in New York state, in the Adirondack Region especially amongst those born before World War II.

Grandpa, Grandpa and Mom never said "wash." They always added an r to make it sound like "warsh." They'd say, "We need to warsh the dishes."  I didn't know that they had been taught what is called Midland English where an r is added to many words. This branch of the English language originated from Scot, Irish and Welsh immigrants to the USA who settled in  Ohio, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Missouri, Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas, and Oklahoma.

   I shouldn't have been embarrassed by my family's unique pronunciations. Their language was not the language of country bumpkins. It was the language of proud Scots, Irish and Welsh who came to the New World!

 

My Mom’s Voice

By Steven Skelley

 

She had the beautiful voice

Of a country girl

Her eyes all a-sparkle

Teeth white like pearl

 

She used old-time words

That no one else said

From generations long past

And people long dead

 

For four decades now

I have missed her song

Every word pure music

Whether subtle or strong

 

As an old man now

When I give up the ghost

It’s my Mom’s voice

That I hope to hear most

 

Copyright 2021 Steven Skelley

 

 

Older Than My Mother

 

By Steven Skelley

 

I was born one day

The natural way

The third of four children she bore

She was still young and strong

Singing magical songs

Her soft touch warmed my soul to the core

 

At first it was all fun

Sharing melting popsicles in the sun

Giggling at the mess on my face

We kids tried to run

When she’d lick her thumb

No spit bath we’d scream - she gave chase

 

But the years weren’t kind

And she struggled to find

Money for our food and our rent

I hugged her when she cried

And something broke inside

Her magic spark shockingly spent

 

They turned off our water, electric and heat

When there is no end you can’t make ends meet

She’d smile but it no longer reached her eyes

She pretended to be strong

As if nothing was wrong

But her child saw through her disguise

 

There were tremors in her hand

Whenever she’d stand

Handing food stamps to the grocery cashier

Embarrassed there might be

Someone who would see

Her eyes barely holding back tears

 

She deserved a better life

Not this constant bloody knife

Deflating her every hope

The weight became too much

Snapping every crutch

And no one ever threw her a rope

 

At age forty five

She stopped being alive

Death left us just her empty shell

How could she be gone

She was our night’s dawn

We pleaded with heaven and hell

 

It has been forty years

Since my funeral tears

I’m much older than she got to be

As I close my eyes

I see her arise

And I say hi Mom it’s me

 

She cups my face in her hands

On her tiptoes she stands

To kiss me just like years before

She appears forty five

Like when I’d last seen her alive

But her eyes don’t show pain anymore

 

We walk hand in hand

Or sometimes just stand

Then lock eyes and smile at each other

How can it be

My Mom is now smaller than me

And I am much older than my Mother?

 

Copyright 2020 Steven Skelley