Honor Thy Mother

My mother, Evangeline, at age 60

One of the Golden Rules (don’t ask me which one) instructs us to honor our mother and father. In the month of May we traditionally honor our mothers. As my own mother died several years ago, I now honor her memory and remember how much she did for me growing up. Her birthday was also in May, so I have two days this month in which to honor her.

I would also like to honor and remember some other women who acted as my mother at different times in my life. Some of them stepped in when my mother was sick and in the hospital; some were neighborhood women; and some were special women I met later on in life. I have written about many of the neighborhood women in a previous blog which is on the blog CD. It is called “The Real Housewives of the South End.” Check it out.

My mother, Evangeline Lana Winchenbaugh Sylvester, was a typical 50s housewife when I was growing up. Her world was her family and taking care of them. She gave us a clean environment, good food, and support for our endeavors.

We were a middle class family who may have had a little more than some of our South End neighbors as my Dad was a machinist at the Cement Plant in Thomaston. If we were underprivileged we didn’t realize it. We didn’t get everything we wanted in our young lives, but there were times when our mother would save her dimes in a special bank to buy something we really wanted. Sometimes it would take her months to do so.

We never went hungry in our house. However, everything we ate was usually made from scratch by our mother. We didn’t have a lot of store bought candy in the house. We either had fruit or homemade brownies and cookies to munch on. When my father came home from work, dinner was on the table and we all sat down together to eat it. He was a meat and potatoes man, therefore most of our meals were of that variety. If you gave him something a little different you had to explain exactly what was in it.

When our mother wasn’t able to take care of us, we often had a substitute live-in mother in the persons of my Aunt Alice or my Great-Aunt May. Alice was really a cousin, but she grew up with my dad. She would leave her own eight children at the farm up in Orrington to come and take care of us. Great-Aunt May was my Dad’s aunt. Her real name was Mary Sue Emery and she was a former nurse and served in the Army-Air Force in two world wars. Both of these women were also excellent cooks, so we never went hungry when they were in residence either.

There were other women in the neighborhood who also stepped in when necessary. I would like to honor Thelma Small and Mrs. Pomroy in particular.

When I was away at school we had “house mothers” who often took care of us when necessary. I remember one house mom who nursed me through black fly bites on my eyelids by putting warm teabags on them to soothe them. I also lived one year with a woman named Effie, a maiden lady who boarded two of us girls at the teacher’s college down east. We didn’t eat there, but at the college, but she was always pleasant to us and so enjoyed our company.

As an employee of the Atlanta Jewish Community Center for eight years, there were many instances when those special women came to my rescue. I remember one particular time when my boss made sure I got health insurance because I couldn’t afford it at the time. Another woman made sure I had something to eat when I was very broke at one point. There were many special women at the Center who accepted this “goyim” among them with open arms.

I have been nurtured and loved by many mothers in my life. These are but a few examples. I miss my own mother often and wish I could just call her on the phone and ask her opinion on something like I used to. I will remember her this Sunday and later on in the month on her birthday.

Meanwhile, my 100-yr.-old aunt, my mother’s sister, Aunt Virginia Poletti, who was not able to have children of her own, is now my mother. I remember her every Mother’s Day the same way I would remember my mother in years past. Evangeline would want it that way.

Thanks for listening.