Memories of my Mother

July 13th is the anniversary of my mother’s death and I wanted to reminisce about her. She was a remarkable woman and she was respected and admired by many people. I am honored to be her daughter.

As a child, she was stricken with polio, there was a big epidemic in 1912 when she contracted it. Many children died and she was one of the lucky survivors. As a result of her polio, she had a withered leg and walked with a pronounced limp all of her life. Her parents were immigrants who did as much as they could but there wasn’t much information in those days. Of six children in her family, she was number 4. I think she was born with a kind spirit and catered to everyone in the family, she mended and ironed, cleaned house and cooked. She always gave more than she received. This was the story of her life.

When she was 29, her father arranged a marriage with my father. Men didn’t marry crippled women in those days so I think she felt lucky. I was born a year after their marriage and my sister was born two years later. My father wasn’t much of a prize but he loved her and their marriage endured for over 54 years.

My grandfather set them up in a little corner grocery store and they eked out a living. We lived behind the store in 3 rooms. There was no shower or tub so we had to go next door to bathe at our grandparent’s apartment. My mom sewed our clothes and we were embarrassed because we didn’t have store bought clothes like the rest of the kids. One of my earliest memories of my mother sewing was for a professional ballerina from Chicago. She spent untold hours sewing sequins by hand on costumes that I thought were so exotic. Later in life, I realized what a generous person she was when she mended and sewed for many people. I loved the clothes and dolls she sewed for my sons and my grandchildren. I “lent” her my new Sears sewing machine in 1970 on the condition that she mend my families clothes when we needed something repaired. When she died in 1993, I got it back and couldn’t bear to touch it for almost 5 years. I finally had so much mending to do that I forced myself to open the cabinet and sewed up a storm.

I was a headstrong kid and my mother never tried to break my spirit. When I was 5 and starting school, she arranged for someone to walk me to school. That lasted 2 days. I announced that if I was old enough to go to school, I was old enough to walk alone. I guess she wanted me to be an independent person.

My son’s loved going to Grandma’s house. She had infinite patience. She and her mother taught them to play canasta, kalookie, go fish, war, crazy eights and Scrabble. She imbued them with a love of science fiction that endures to this day. She taught them to sew buttons on their clothes. Everyone was cooked a special breakfast when they stayed the weekend, sometimes she would cook 3 different things so everyone had what they wanted. I don’t think kids ever felt more loved. She was thrilled when our middle son married and had a daughter a year later. My mother made her quilts, clothes and appliquéd wall hangings. She made a gorgeous Raggedy Ann doll that will be a keepsake for Jane’s children. With infinite care she made a book that had all sorts of closings like buttons, zippers, Velcro, I don’t remember what it was called but it had all sorts of things for youngsters to touch and feel. I treasure the photos I took of my mother and my kids, there aren’t nearly enough. I took this photo when I was studying photography at Columbia College while in my 40’s. I thought I should take some portraits of my parents. I had no inkling how much this photo would mean to me.

At age 75 she fell and broke her bad leg. It required surgery with pins and a steel plate. She never walked again and was confined to a wheel chair for the next 7 years. The doctor said she would be in the hospital a month and in a nursing home for 3 months. After just 3 weeks, she told the doctor she was going home, send her a physical therapist. She basically rehabilitated herself as much as possible. Just because she was incapacitated didn’t mean she retired from life. She was a dynamo, sewing, calling, and mailing. Her many acts of loving-kindness extended to friends as well as family. If a calling committee was needed, she volunteered. She was a one woman mailing committee to thank people for their donations or to remember the passing of a loved one. She proudly chaired the kitchen committee for our synagogue.

No one was as determined as she was, she overcame all obstacles except the last one. At 82 she elected to have surgery to replace a valve in her heart. She had congestive heart failure and wanted to feel better. I was opposed to the surgery, I never had a good feeling about it but never voiced my opinion. She was entitled to make the decision on her own. Her last words to me and my sister were "don’t worry, I’ll be alright." She stroked out when they tried to restart her heart and never regained consciousness. After 2 days they did a CAT scan and it was apparent that she wouldn’t recover. We asked her heart surgeon what would he do if it were his mother. He said he would let her go. Those were her wishes. She signed an advanced directive that no life supports were to be used if her surgery didn’t have a good result. My sister and I took turns staying with her 24 hours a day. After 12 days the hospital administrator decided he couldn’t have someone “starve to death in his hospital.” He and 5 administrators marched into her room at 5:30 PM on a Friday and said we had to move her or allow them to start tube feeding her. I told him he would have a problem if they did this to my mother. They came in at 6 AM to start the tube feeding. I was there with the biggest malpractice attorney in the county and a newspaper reporter. We negotiated with them all day that tube feeding was against her wishes, it violated the papers she signed on her admission to the hospital. She gave my sister and me her durable power of attorney. Finally we agreed to let them start the feeding provided they would remove the tube when she would be moved to hospice on Monday. It was a nightmare, she was over hydrated and literally drowned in her own fluids. Her kidneys were shutting down, it was agony to see her die like this. Her death came Monday evening and it was a blessing.
But true to my word, I made a lot of trouble for that hospital. We were on the front page of the paper for 2 days. I asked for a meeting with the president of the board of the hospital. I met with him and the medical ethicist from the hospital several weeks after my mother’s death. He asked what I wanted from the meeting. I asked that the hospital policies should be changed, especially what people were told when they signed the forms. I then asked for a personal apology from the director of the hospital. They agreed to my requests. Eventually, I testified before the Indiana legislature and helped get the living will law changed in the State of Indiana. I vowed that no family would go through what we went through. I think my mother would have been proud of me. Her memory is a blessing, she left a meaningful legacy worth preserving. I’ve always said the only thing that matters in the end is whom you loved and who loves you. Many people loved my mother.