My mother passed away a little over a week ago -on my birthday, to be exact (thanks, Mom)- and things over here are not going so great. I can't even nor do I want to even get into the emotional shit that me and my siblings are dealing with - wouldn't want to nick that vein publicly, but I think there's some good stuff I want to share. And I think my mom would have gotten a kick out of me showing this.
My Mom's living situation over the past year had changed pretty dramatically. She had lived in a nice in-law apartment for about 14 years, but then the owner decided to put his house on the market and she had to find another place to live. With her financial resources being what they were and her health landing her in and out of various medical/rehab facilities, she decided that for the time being, renting a furnished room in another lovely seaside town on the South Shore of Massachusetts was her best option. Because of this, the majority of her belongings had been boxed up in storage, and had been using her car as a make-shift extra closet.
My sister Kate started to go through her car yesterday and found some papers of ours she'd from over the years. Some brought her to tears, and others, like one I'd written, made her laugh so hard that she thought she'd wet her pants. "Laughter through tears. That's my favorite emotion." - Dolly Parton in her Steel Magnolias character - my mom's favorite movie.
Here's where I should probably point out in advance I was not always (intentionally) funny.
Anyway.
First up: I'll start with the sweet and sentimental.
Me and Mom, Christmas 1980.

She's reading a card I'd made her in school (I should point out I went to a Catholic school then).
She still held onto that card. Here it is:

As you can see, Mary still has her (perfectly normal- ok, OK! magazine?) postpartum baby pooch, and a halo, and Joseph is rocking his coat of many colors* and sandals. Pretty sure that's a sheep in the background. As you can see for yourself, no detail was spared.
(*I think I was confusing 2 completely different Josephs. They were not the same guy - Jesus's step-dad and The Coat Guy, right?)
The card's inside content. You must admit, if Catholic school teaches you one thing, it's perfect penmanship. Please recognize I was only 7 when I wrote this:

I was not a bad speller, so it would appear I was so hopped up on The Christmas Spirit (Santa, reindeer, presents, vacation, etc.) (and oh, Baby Jesus, etc.) to remember to put an "l" in "bless you". I still do this when I'm writing fast. (Here's the back of the card)
Things were not always so warm and fuzzy in our home. When you take 4 kids within 7 years of each other, add in a holiday like Christmas, mayhem often was the result. We could really (really) work our mother's last nerve.
A year or 2 later (puts me in 3rd or 4th grade), I was still a sweet, loving kid. But... I may have had the occasional (so very rare) asshole tendency. My sister Kate had gotten Santa's phone number at school. And with our parents' permission and oversight, was going to (excitedly! OMG! It's SANTA! I KNOW HIM!) call Santa. I should point out she's in 2nd or 3rd grade here. Still a believer.
For whatever reason, I saw this as an opportunity to mess with her. I honestly don't know why - I actually liked my sister. It was just something that got into my head to do and so I, along with a chum form the 'hood, went upstairs to the upstairs phone and listened in on her call. As the call connected (I don't know if it was Santa or his receptionist), I proceeded to...God, I was such a dick....disconnect the call.
As you can imagine, there was ...an exchange between the 2 of us after she realized what a little bitch I'd been. We were loud. Words were hurled like Chinese stars. I'm sure it wasn't long before it took on a Animal Kingdom episode likeness. Therefore, it didn't take long for my Mom to be all "Fuck This" level of exasperated, made us write our first composition (of a couple more to follow over the years) on what was "The Spirit of Christmas".
She saved this gem, too.
As you can see from the writing (actual font size and use of exclamation points) this is clearly "All Filler, No Killer." My Mom had demanded a 2 page report. You can see where my 8-9 year old self is really reaching to come up with something on the subject.The "What the Christmas Spirt"?. I'm reading that now like "what the...Christmas Spirit?" like I'm trying not to swear. Heh.

Transcribing Page One's best parts:
Christmas is giving things to one another.
There are surprises and secrets!
There is no pouting and you get deceration up and your Christmas tree up.
And you decerate T-H-A-T! (nice filler, little me)
And you see SNOW! (I distinctly remember writing that line, and using the extra large lettering. At that point, I was already running out of gas with this assignment.)
Page Two: (Finally getting to the meat as to why I am writing this in the first place. Also note my complete and utter disregard for the left hand margin. I really had nothing left in the tank):

Page Two's MVP:
And you don't push the button on your sister when she's trying to call St. Nick. No yelling either! (why the hell I kept referring to him as "St. Nick", I'll never know. I never called him that, I swear. Maybe I was going for a religious vibe, since I knew my mom liked church?)
Page Two's Runner Ups (all spelling is original):
No hitting either. You never be bad. (going to guess things took a turn for the physical between me and Kate? I told you we were a bunch of animals.)
Your sopose to be happy and not sad.
You get sometimes alot of presents or a little
But most importent you get love. (way to bring it home, little me)
And people dress like Santa Claus. So that's the Christmas Spirt. THE END. (my "Big Finish". Apparently.)
(Part II's conclusion to follow with what my 13 year-old self had to say on the matter. Also known as "Why My Sister Wet Her Pants Yesterday")
that letter from 1980... wow, what a sweet kid you were :)
Posted by: Van Kapeghian | February 09, 2010 at 01:24 PM
OH MY GOD, seriously, you cannot catch a break. I'm thinking about you and hoping the rest of 2010 brings you much more happiness and peace than the beginning.
Those writings are hilarious, and you really do have beautiful penmanship! I went to Catholic school and do not have nice penmanship!
Posted by: halloweenlover | February 09, 2010 at 02:44 PM
I'm so sorry for your loss. Your mom sounds like an awesome lady with a great sense of humor...much like yourself. This IS the way your mom would want to remember her and to grieve...through fond memories and laughter. Hugs to you and your siblings (and possibly some Depends for your sister).
I like how page 2's margins become increasingly larger as the essay progresses towards The Big Finish.
Posted by: HollowSquirrel | February 09, 2010 at 03:00 PM
XOXO!
Posted by: Emily | February 09, 2010 at 03:05 PM
HS-Yeah,I did the chipping in of the margin "like yah- no one's going to notice this." Formed a nice little acute triangle over there, didn't I? Writers version of "skimming from the top." I really had nothing to say but knew I couldn't get out of it.
Halloween, Yeah, the week was filled with other events, which on their own would stand to try one's patience and cause some emotional response. My car battery died and my sister's washing machine kicked (with a load of wet clothes in it). I am currently washing my sister's kids' clothes, not to be a good person/sister, but to hopefully offset the Hanging Up on Santa event. Always working an angle.
Posted by: Jen from Boston | February 09, 2010 at 03:25 PM
I am so sorry about your Mom, Jen. I feel bad too because I left a peppy comment on your photo on Flickr of you and your Mom before I came here. I really hope it didn't come off like I was making light of such a sad situation.
The card and the Christmas Spirit essay are priceless. My parents never made me write an essay like that, but I remember having to write "I will not talk in assembly" 100 times when I was in about 2nd grade:P
Posted by: Elizabeth | February 09, 2010 at 06:10 PM
Oh, Jen, I am SO sorry for your loss. My sympathies to you and your family.
I, too, went to Catholic school and the Joseph "confusion" made me laugh out loud. But honestly, without looking it up, I wouldn't know for 100% absolute certain that they weren't the same dude.
And, um, my Dad made me right a book report on "Jonathan Livingston Seagull" (what the..., right?) when I was about 12 or 13. God, I hope he saved that. ha!
Posted by: Lauren | February 09, 2010 at 07:06 PM
Wonderful memories...and illustrated, no less! God bless her for saving them. These will be so helpful.
I love this entry because it reflects you so well...your sensitivity, dry wit and immeasurable capacity to love.
Posted by: Teri | February 09, 2010 at 07:26 PM
Jen - I got your comment on my blog today. I'm so sorry you're going through this; you know I can relate, and I'm thinking of you.
I am amazed, though, that your sense of humour is in tact. Well - no, I'm not amazed, really; I kind of figured you'd still be teh funny even in times like this. But damn, g. I'm really impressed.
Posted by: mamatulip | February 09, 2010 at 07:50 PM
Found out what my version of your car battery and kate's washing machine is....our garbage disposal kicked out the metal things that actually grind up the food.......why is mom breaking all our appliances????
Posted by: Emily | February 10, 2010 at 09:24 AM
Jen,
Two nights ago prior to falling asleep, you entered my mind. Curious to hear on yours and your baby's well-being, I reminded myself to reach out to you the next day. Errands, early dimentia and a sunny day that urged me to venture out for a long trek distracted me seeing my intentions through. So here I am in my usual fashion, a wee-bit late. Reading your words, I am reminded of life's circular, bittersweet and ironic nature. I am thrilled to hear you and your baby girl are healthy but so saddened by the loss of your mom. Wow, are you ever her replica. I'm so happy you heeded her advice and took to writing, that day and still. Through your words and remembering her and her then-seemingly- quirky ideas keeps your mom alive (albeit in a St. Nick-like form). Your daughter will someday benefit from your humorous and tender accounts and will come to know her grandma and mom in a deeply personal way. I admire your courage to confront the enormity of the emotions you are enduring and thank you for sharing your life's moments.
Posted by: adriana st. cyr | February 12, 2010 at 12:23 PM
i enjoyed those letters!!
jen - im sorry about your mom. i know that loss, and its hard one.
xo
s
Posted by: stella | February 14, 2010 at 08:11 PM
Shit Jen, I'm so sorry. Loves to you.
Posted by: Ceece | February 22, 2010 at 10:56 AM
Sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing this with us.
Posted by: Fraulein N | February 25, 2010 at 04:28 PM