Danbury News Times, CT
May 13 2007

Memories of Mother’s tall tales
I miss my mother. Not necessarily the old lady in the wheelchair who
died six years ago not really knowing who I was. I’m remembering the
Mother who was my best friend for so many years, who was always
there, who could make most things all right.
And the Mommy.

She gave me so many fanciful explanations when I was a little girl,
as I suspect most mothers do by nature and tradition. I don’t think I
was meant to believe a lot of it, and I didn’t, really.

I was small during World War II, and I remember asking who Hitler
was. Mother told me he was a very bad man who stole people’s lunches.
I guess this was the level of evil she thought a 3-year-old could
deal with. She was probably right.

She also told me that thunder peals were actually men bowling in the
sky. That seemed reasonable to me–my father bowled, so I knew about
that noise and was never afraid of storms.

The moon was made of green cheese. I guess nobody tells kids that any
more. After all, Neil Armstrong walked on the moon, and he wasn’t
carrying crackers.

Another fantasy was that you could catch birds by pouring salt on
their tails. I used to run around the back yard with a saltshaker,
chasing birds. I pretty much knew even then this was all make-believe
— but just in case . . .

(Fortunately I never came close to catching a bird, because I have no
idea what I would have done with one.)

There were a lot of far-fetched things I half-believed as a little
girl, because Mommy said so. Like if I ate my bread crusts I’d have
curly hair. Well, here I am 60-odd years later, still eating every
crust in sight, and still with stick-straight hair — just like my
mother’s, in fact.

I was encouraged to eat everything on my plate, because "Think of the
starving Armenians." I didn’t know what Armenians were, but I
certainly never had much trouble emptying a plate.

(I still instinctively do that, starving Armenians or not. And my
husband, raised on the same theory, today almost always leaves
something on his plate as a sign, I firmly believe, of silent
rebellion.)

Mother teased that if I swallowed a watermelon seed, a melon would
grow in my tummy. Hmmm — that could actually explain a lot . . .

And if I ate too much of anything, like a pie or cookies, I’d likely
turn into one. (Unfortunately, I never believed that one at all.)

I think every kid in my generation "knew" if you dug a hole deep
enough you’d get to China. I remember my little friend Joann and I
set out to do that. We dug for a while, found some pieces of broken
dishes, and decided we were there — we had found china!

Mother said if I made an ugly face it would freeze that way. (She was
wrong, I think.)

She also told me I was going to ruin my eyes if I kept on reading in
bed by the light of the hall fixture.

She may have been right, there — I was wearing glasses by the age of
10.

Other people had their tales as well. My father claimed eating potato
skins would grow hair on your teeth.

My grandmother used to say (in fun), "I’ll give you 2 cents if you .
. ." She stopped doing that, though, the day I presented her (in fun)
with a bill for 16 cents.

But Mother was the one who knew best. What she said mattered, even if
I knew it was silly.

I miss my mother.