Mom

Well, it's difficult to believe that it has been one year since the passing of Virginia L. Freeman -- my Mom.

Having been the first passing of an immediate family member, and the fact that it was my mother, made the experience very surreal. I remember thinking it seemed as though time had stopped. And, in many respects, it did. Although we know death is a fact of life and indeed imminent, somehow we are never prepared to deal with it.

Mom as a happy baby (1940)


Mom's grade school report card (1947)


Portrait of Mom (1950s)


Dad and Mom (1956)


Family fun in the pool (1971)


Mom and I at Farrell's (1975)


Suzanne with my Mom (March 2005)
(one of the last photos taken of my Mom)

To make matters worse, the way in which my Mom passed -- partly due to complications of prescribed medicines during initial hospice care -- has left a bitter taste. This is particularly the case seeing how she was against hospice treatment to begin with.

But enough of that. I'd rather think of the good times -- and good memories.

Like the times my Mom would show me how to float on my back as a 3-year-old in our newly constructed Bogner swimming pool in Riverside. The year was 1971. I remember closing my eyes -- so as to shield them from the sun -- and gliding on top of her arms as I learned how to calmly float about. Shortly thereafter, doing so on my own became second nature. I never realized until much later how learning to float on your back is probably one of the most important aspects of learning to swim, if only for safety reasons.

A couple years later in Mountain View, Calif., after my older sisters -- Gina and Cindy -- were off to school for the day and my Dad was at work, Mom would take out the pre-school books and begin preparing me for kindergarten. Along with learning basic math, reading and spelling, this is when I first remember learning to write my name. It sounds corny, but that has always been a special memory of mine, having even more significance today. Overall, the pre-school teaching provided me with a very important boost in my early education, something I soon realized many kids didn't seem to have the first few years of grade school.

After the early-morning pre-schooling, we'd invaribly watch late-morning 'Bewitched' reruns on TV. Oh, and the 'Joker's Wild' game show. My Mom loved that show (though, the image of the devil in the slot machine-styled game always spooked me).

The next year, in Cupertino, Calif., it would be early-morning trips to the local Safeway (on Bollinger Road), the library (we spent a lot of time at local libraries) or sometimes Vallco Mall and then off to mid-day kindergarten at Sedgwick Elementary, where I had a crush on fellow kindergartener Gwen Allman (funny how one remembers such seemingly trivial stuff -- I wonder where Gwen is today?).

After kindergarten, it was back home where Mom would usually watch 'All My Children'. Although this was one show that, for obvious reasons, I cared little for, I can tell you that I do remember a young Erica Martin (a.k.a., Susan Lucci). Oh, and I will never forget the show's "opening book" sequence and eerie theme song, which I heard on a near daily basis during the early-to-mid 1970s. It also usually signaled it was nap time (which likely explains the eerie theme song memory).

Sometimes in the afternoon, after kindergarten, we'd go out on the front lawn where my Mom would teach me how to catch and hit a baseball using a plastic ball and bat. Of course, later it would be my Dad who would take me to the next level playing catch with a real baseball, but it was my Mom who got the ball rolling so to speak. Thirty-three years later and I can still remember tossing her the ball on that front lawn as if it was yesterday.

(Another thing I'll never forget about that time were the cool mid-century Eichler homes that comprised many of the neighborhoods between Palo Alto and San Jose. Although we never actually lived in a real Eichler, most of the homes were no doubt heavily influenced by them and thus had similar architectural details.)

A year later and the family was back home in Riverside. This time we lived near the Tyler Mall (now Galleria at Tyler). In fact, directly across the street from our neighborhood was Farrell's Ice Cream Parlour. Think Chuck E. Cheese (except with hamburgers and ice cream) meets Disneyland's Main Street U.S.A. Indeed, it was kid birthday heaven. The candy store alone was worth a trip through the doors. Those lucky enough to experience the place will surely never forget when "the Zoo" was delivered to a table.

Being adjacent to the Tyler Mall also meant frequent trips across the street, mostly with my Mom. She loved to shop for clothes and -- I think -- loved taking me along with her more than the actual shopping itself. I was her "second opinion" outfit reviewer. Most of the time, I think I got it right. Anyhow, I spent more time than I probably care to admit tagging along with her to stores such as Fashion Conspriacy, Anita, The Show Off (all 1970s-era womens/girls clothing shops) as well as J.C. Penney, Harris', Sears, May Co. and The Broadway.

(One of the last things I did with Mom last year in the weeks before she passed was take her clothes shopping. But by this time, it was Mom who was the trooper as she was beginning to find it difficult to shop due to her declinning health. What I wouldn't give to take her shopping once more today.)

Anyhow, after my parents divorced in the mid 1980s and my older sisters had married, it was just Mom and I. Of course, as with any family, we had our ups and downs. But even through the divorce and rough financial times, Mom did what she had to do in order to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. Sadly, it was probably during these times, myself as a teenager, that I did not always fully appreciate all that she was doing -- and had been doing -- for me. So, for what it's worth now, thank you Mom.

In late 1990, while I was in college and living at home, my then-girlfriend Suzanne was in need of a place to stay. Her mother had recently remarried and was relocating out of state. Although Mom probably would have preferred marriage, she understood the circumstances and allowed Suzanne to move in. Soon thereafter, Mom and Suzanne developed a mother-daughter type bond.

(Mom always told me how much she adored Suzanne. And the compliments were always returned likewise from Suzanne. And even though Suzanne and I eventually drifted apart for a while, Mom never stopped asking me about her. In fact, Mom was very happy to hear Suzanne and I -- although never fully severed -- had rekindled a strong friendship the past few years.)

In late 1997, Mom was diagnosed with cancer. She had two surgeries and although it was rough initially, she fought hard and eventually recovered nicely and was doing quite well. But in early 2004, she needed yet a third surgery for an unrelated cancer. Although a less intense surgery, the location made it a complicated one. Looking back now, the ensuing months began a slow decline in overall health no doubt compounded by related complications. I often wonder whether I could have done more to help her during this slow decline. I'm sure I'll never be fully satisfied with my answer.

However, above all, I guess I'm one of the lucky ones. Lucky to have been given 37 years with my Mom -- and lucky to have many cherished memories.

I miss you Mom.

Love, your son.