The years fly by, seems like I just did my annual Mother's Day tribute to my Mom. I learn something new every year, or at least refresh my memory. Mom left us in 1971, many years ago, and, she was 71, born in 1898. Wow, 1898. William McKinley was President. The Civil War had just been over thirty some years, in 1865.
Older folks may understand, when it comes to mind, and I really analyze it, to me, my Mom, Jessie Maud, seemed rather old, but she was only 71 when she passed, I am 80, that is hard for me to rationalize. I guess there is a difference between other people and a Mom. Mom's are just taken for granted.
My favorite memories of Mom, one always comes to mind, the pancake morning. We were vacationing in Michigan, and a few of my brother's friends were with us. One morning, Mom was making pancake batter. Apparently one of those days, too think, add milk, too thin, add more pancake mix, etc., etc., etc. We had a big, really big, bowl full of batter. Dad, as he was prone to do, saw it and made a big issue out of it. He had an audience ... "Jess, way too many pancakes" ... etc., etc. Mom told brother Bud and friends, "Eat them ......" I'm sure she added some other comments. She fixed them, they ate them, all of them. I forget how many I ate. It took years for me to look at another pancake. Not sure if my brother ever ate any again.
Sunday mornings, after church at the old First EUB in downtown Dayton, Dad was often making rounds at Miami Valley Hospital, or delivering a baby or something, so Mom and I walked to church alone. Afterwards we would go to a lunch counter, not sure which one, Woolworth's comes to mind, but not sure about, in those days, being open on Sunday. Chocolate milkshake and cinnamon raisin toast. Funny the things we remember. On vacation, heading to Northern Michigan, we would stop at a small store in Northern Ohio, trial bologna ring, crackers, "rat" cheese, Cokes, milk and fig newtons. Still my favorite.
Mom bailed me out on more than one occasion. Dad would take the car keys, Mom would get them back for me.
I think I took my Mom for granted. I wish I had appreciated her more, she was just Mom. Her birthday, December 18, a week before Christmas, the day we always put our Christmas tree up. She passed on a Good Friday. I remember speeding out to the house on Montgomery Road after Dad called and gave me the news that she had passed. I remember thinking that it was not possible, I thought Mom's lived forever.
Happy Mother's Day, Jessie Maud Shannon Dooley.
The Jessiedean, well, you can see where the name came from ... Dad built the boat in the early 30's, triple planked, she may still be afloat somewhere. Some of my most vivid memories of my childhood revolve around that boat. The fragrance under that deck is still with me, oilcloth, oil, gasoline, my first ride was with my Mom and Dad, on Burt Lake, in Northern Michigan.
