I was birthed from a giggling mother.

With that being said, I don’t believe there was much laughter during the actual birth … as my mom was hypnotized. So unless she was given that particular command, while spellbound, my educated guess is that she was in some dreamy, sublime state of being.

The giggles most likely erupted when she was abruptly awakened two days later and first laid eyes on me.

My dad likened me to Edward G. Robinson and promised my mom they would dress me up really purty. So those giggles were most likely the upshot of relentless sobbing.

A ray of sunshine, glass half full, optimism personified… that was my mom. She was the kindest, most generous and thoughtful person. And someone I would choose over and over and over again to be my mom.

Now admittedly, she could not carry a tune and dancing to the beat was, well … challenging. Undeterred, she would burst into song or kick up her heels like not a soul was tuning in or having a look-see.

That effervescent spirit and full of life soul was my mom.

While singing “Chiribin, Chiribom” at a grammar school talent show, cousin Marilyn said it was so embarrassing she wished for the floor to open up and swallow her before anyone discovered they were related.

AND as a member of her high school choir, my mom must have charmed the choral director into allowing her to join … cause when it came to ‘show time’ he requested she only mouth the words.

At ten years of age she won a contest imitating Mae West and a ‘who has the most freckles contest’ when they realized they couldn’t possibly count them all; allowing her free entrance into a movie theatre … or theAter, as she called it.

She longed to be an aviatrix, like Amelia Earhart, or a fashion designer.

She was a legal secretary until she retired and if math presented itself – she called my dad.

She was a hugger, a kisser, a flirt.

She loved hosting parties and it all seemed to come together with such ease. If friends just happened to stay for dinner she didn’t bat an eye.

My mom had great taste and continually rearranged, repositioned and restyled our house. She could handle a hammer and screwdriver like a pro, and fix all kinds of stuff. SHE WAS THE ORIGINAL FIXER-UPPER! And her favorite anniversary gift from my dad? AN ELECTRIC DRILL.

Diamonds and furs were not her thing … but how she loved turquoise jewelry and scarves …what she could do with a scarf!

And oh boy did she have a thing about chocolate covered orange peels, sour green tomatoes, club sandwiches, pistachio nuts and Chinese food,“they were marvelous”.

There were plumbers, painters and handymen who stayed for dinner and our mailman came to my wedding.

A beauty inside and out, she was wise and charismatic; always exuding a youthful vitality belying her age. She dwelled on the beauty in life and lit up every room she entered with her genuine warmth and magnetic personality. My mom had this way of making people she just met feel as though they had known one another for years.

Everybody loved my mom.

Years ago, while discussing an upcoming special birthday celebration, we struggled over how the invitation should read. We racked our brains trying to come up with some clever version of ‘no presents’. It’s when one of us came up with the brilliant “she don’t need no stinkin’ presents” that we were sent into a side-splitting, uncontrollable, disorderly laugh attack. Cause we thought we were so funny.

THAT GIGGLE … that spontaneous, exhilarating, contagious burst … provoking many a ‘pee in our pants’ conclusion. Yes, that happened.

And her garden … HER GLORIOUS GARDEN. How she fawned over her cherished flowerbeds and they flourished and bloomed into a colorful masterpiece.

“The earth laughs in flowers”

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

How apropos is that?

A couple of years before she passed away, just shy of her 91st, I had to face the realization that my youthful, dynamic mom was aging. And I was not facing it  very well. However, I could no longer close my eyes to the signs of her diagnosed Parkinson’s and dementia.

The unfortunate arrival of paramedics began occurring way too often, yet I would hear her on the phone declaring how handsome and adorable they all were. I began to wonder if she was deliberately setting off her Life Alert button.

The reality of witnessing her increasing frailty and cognitive decline was heart-wrenching; leaving me feeling helpless. And the notion that she was acutely aware of her bewildered self just about did me in.

There was something in her eyes I had never seen before and she was scared. Me too.

My mom desperately tried to hang onto her enthusiastic, light-hearted, effervescent self … even as she lost her ability to speak.

What a treasured childhood I had with a mom who supported and encouraged me with wise advice. Her sense of humor and perpetually positive spin on life paving the way always. And oh how devotedly she cared for my sweet, funny dad.

My mom lived a life filled with abundant love and laughter. She created her own sunshine and brought it with her wherever she went. Her mantra was, “you create your own fun”. And she certainly did!

… what a privilege it has been to be your daughter. I am forever filled with gratitude, and you are never far from thought, as you continue to spread sunshine and blossoms everywhere I look.

MY WOW-IN-LAW

With her twinkling eyes and delightful dimples (which my youngest inherited)… my mother-in-law was another WOW. A farmers wife, devoted mother of three and loving Grandma Boo to my children.

Standing at the corner sink with a view of corn, soybeans, silos and barns I can picture her preparing mouth-watering fried chicken or slicing strawberries for her incredible pie. She never followed a recipe so I lurked behind, trying to approximate the measurements for her amazing pie crust – but mine never turned out like hers.

I still hear her voice, raised an octave or two, as she calls for my father-in-law… or plays peek-a-boo with her granddaughters. Hence gifted the name… Grandma Boo.

We all got a kick out of her stream of conscious chatting when traveling in a car – never quite knowing where a story was going and without transition from one topic to the next. She was funny without knowing it.

She loved a Drumstick sundae cone or ice cream from the Sycamore Drive-in, a Spanish hot dog and root beer from B&K and a supreme pizza from Bruno’s.

Dorothy was patient, kind and easy-going. When a mouse revealed itself, she calmly walked over, picked it up by the tail and set it outside. And when my husband decided to rearrange her kitchen cabinets, she giggled when repeatedly calling to inquire as to where this or that had been rehoused. I would not have been so magnanimous.

Welcoming me with open arms, she never offered unsolicited advice, was always supportive and simply adorable. I couldn’t have asked for a more wonderful MIL!

How dearly I loved my other WOW.