PAWPAW'S DIARY: 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
