Laura, it would've been my mom's 100th birthday today; she died at 93 but it feels like a year ago. I had no idea how profoundly I would miss her. Kicking that guy in the shins: what a great idea. xo
My mom was in the hospital a couple of years ago and she mentioned that her eldest daughter (me) was an author. The nurse asked "Is TK Eldridge your daughter?"
When mom said yes, she ran out into the hall to tell the nurse at the desk, "That's TK Eldridge's mother in there!"
Apparently, they'd picked one of my books for their book club...
Mom laughed and said it was her 'fifteen minutes of fame'.
Laura, thank you for writing this evocative piece. It brings up memories. My mother‘s name was not Madeline. It was Pearl. She insisted that her adult children call her Pearl instead of Mom. I wish that I had interviewed her. I was a journalist, after all. I just never got around to it.
Such a beautiful piece. And I really love how you structured it, always coming back to “who is Madeline?”. And then telling us, and not telling us, then telling us again. I loved this. Her smiles in the photos look so warm and genuine and the wedding dress is gorgeous! I see where your sense of style comes from. And isn’t being Baltimore famous all that matters!?
Your mother had a beautiful face. And this was a wonderful read. It made me laugh that she did not want to be identified as the writer’s mother. Most mothers bask in that reflected glory. And hey, I don’t remember Natalie Portman wearing any Marimekko. I would have noticed! I bought my first Marimekko dress with my own money in 1968 at age 16. My mother would have died if she knew how much it cost!
There was no Marimekko in the series, but it was definitely part of the novel, along with Betty Cooke jewelry. (I gave my mom a necklace made by the latter and I wore a Betty Cooke ring to the premiere. Betty died a month before my mom did.
The depth of things I don't know about my mother is something I think about often. She died 30 years ago, and I can still hear her say my nickname, Caldonia Begonia.
My mother, sometime in her 80s, started to sort through things and label them, and also used her first name (probably because the attic also held items from my paternal grandparents and assorted other relatives). Perhaps thinking outside herself/using her name allowed a certain distance necessary for the task - which wasn’t ever completed.
I loved this. Odes to Mom as people, complex and so much more than parents, get me, right in the gut. But now I want to hear the story of the missing bio dad no one was supposed to talk about.
I know my mother had siblings she never met and it's weird -- I'm torn between wanting to know what happened in that young, brief marriage, but I also want to honor my mother's rigid loyalty to her mother. (My mom wrote her bio father exactly once and when she did 23andMe, she chose not to have her info shared with potential relatives.)
Who is Madeline? She is a crafter, perhaps participating in craft fairs or sales at the continuing care facility and packing these lovelies in a baggie identifying the maker. Madeline is also a bit of a mystery, and I like learning about her. Thank you.
Great essay with a great ending. Your mom looked and sounded so vivacious and sassy-- especially for a librarian. In the old days, those dumb stereotypes-- they had no idea!
Another fantastic essay. My mom was an avid crafter & note-taker. Even after 15 years the heart pangs kick in when I go through handcrafted ornaments she made, or read through one of many notebooks where she jotted lists that will never tell the full story of who she was.
Very nice piece! What I thought was odd about the note, "Handmade by Madeline—" was that dash after her name. It was like she was thinking of how to classify herself, then after mulling it over for a few seconds, thought to herself, "Oh, to hell with it" and just left it blank.
Laura, it would've been my mom's 100th birthday today; she died at 93 but it feels like a year ago. I had no idea how profoundly I would miss her. Kicking that guy in the shins: what a great idea. xo
💕
My mom was in the hospital a couple of years ago and she mentioned that her eldest daughter (me) was an author. The nurse asked "Is TK Eldridge your daughter?"
When mom said yes, she ran out into the hall to tell the nurse at the desk, "That's TK Eldridge's mother in there!"
Apparently, they'd picked one of my books for their book club...
Mom laughed and said it was her 'fifteen minutes of fame'.
Thank you, LL. Caught my heart -- so much of this piece is in the handwriting, the recipe cards...
Laura, thank you for writing this evocative piece. It brings up memories. My mother‘s name was not Madeline. It was Pearl. She insisted that her adult children call her Pearl instead of Mom. I wish that I had interviewed her. I was a journalist, after all. I just never got around to it.
If there was ever a time to keep a bag full of angels in your drawer, this is it.
Such a beautiful piece. And I really love how you structured it, always coming back to “who is Madeline?”. And then telling us, and not telling us, then telling us again. I loved this. Her smiles in the photos look so warm and genuine and the wedding dress is gorgeous! I see where your sense of style comes from. And isn’t being Baltimore famous all that matters!?
Your mother had a beautiful face. And this was a wonderful read. It made me laugh that she did not want to be identified as the writer’s mother. Most mothers bask in that reflected glory. And hey, I don’t remember Natalie Portman wearing any Marimekko. I would have noticed! I bought my first Marimekko dress with my own money in 1968 at age 16. My mother would have died if she knew how much it cost!
There was no Marimekko in the series, but it was definitely part of the novel, along with Betty Cooke jewelry. (I gave my mom a necklace made by the latter and I wore a Betty Cooke ring to the premiere. Betty died a month before my mom did.
The depth of things I don't know about my mother is something I think about often. She died 30 years ago, and I can still hear her say my nickname, Caldonia Begonia.
My mother, sometime in her 80s, started to sort through things and label them, and also used her first name (probably because the attic also held items from my paternal grandparents and assorted other relatives). Perhaps thinking outside herself/using her name allowed a certain distance necessary for the task - which wasn’t ever completed.
I loved this. Odes to Mom as people, complex and so much more than parents, get me, right in the gut. But now I want to hear the story of the missing bio dad no one was supposed to talk about.
I know my mother had siblings she never met and it's weird -- I'm torn between wanting to know what happened in that young, brief marriage, but I also want to honor my mother's rigid loyalty to her mother. (My mom wrote her bio father exactly once and when she did 23andMe, she chose not to have her info shared with potential relatives.)
Who is Madeline? She is a crafter, perhaps participating in craft fairs or sales at the continuing care facility and packing these lovelies in a baggie identifying the maker. Madeline is also a bit of a mystery, and I like learning about her. Thank you.
I love this. Your mother had a gorgeous smile. The kind I always wished for. Beautiful, captivating writing. Going to go watch the movie.
Great essay with a great ending. Your mom looked and sounded so vivacious and sassy-- especially for a librarian. In the old days, those dumb stereotypes-- they had no idea!
Another fantastic essay. My mom was an avid crafter & note-taker. Even after 15 years the heart pangs kick in when I go through handcrafted ornaments she made, or read through one of many notebooks where she jotted lists that will never tell the full story of who she was.
Very nice piece! What I thought was odd about the note, "Handmade by Madeline—" was that dash after her name. It was like she was thinking of how to classify herself, then after mulling it over for a few seconds, thought to herself, "Oh, to hell with it" and just left it blank.
I would not be able to part with even one of those angels. 🌸