Life of Wry

We celebrated my mom’s birthday tonight.

She was born Ina Claire Abrams on May 9, 1929, in San Francisco.  In her heart, she’s still a city girl, and in particular, that city.  She grew up in the Marina, just down the street from the Palace of Fine Arts.  She says that back then, it was a very working class part of town.  She was a scrappy, street wise girl who grew up fast as an only child.  She said her parents were so in love with each other, they didn’t really have much left for her.

She hardened early.

She graduated from San Jose State and I’m sure she would have gone far with a career.  She worked for a short time as a buyer in a department store and loved fashion.  She did a little modeling, too.  But she dropped everything in favor of marrying my dad, and after he graduated from business school they moved to LA.  He got in on the ground floor of the aerospace boom and focused most (if not all) of his attention on executive life, leaving her to raise four kids pretty much on her own.  This was not an unusual arrangement in the 50s and 60s, and it was not a horrible life by any stretch.  Kids kept her busy and she found ways to adjust to suburbia–she was my brownie leader, she ran the little league snack shack, she joined bridge groups and played a lot of tennis.  She always found respite in reading and crossword puzzles, and enjoyed cocktail hour with the neighbors.  She wasn’t a typical suburban joiner, but she had a lot of friends.  Which was good, because my dad wasn’t all that available.  In any sense of the word.

I can’t help but wonder who and what she might have become had she stayed in San Francisco and followed her own dreams.   She’s strong willed, has a wicked sense of humor, and is damn smart. If she’d have been recognized, valued and loved, who knows?   One thing’s certain: if she hadn’t married my dad and moved to LA, she’d never have become a republican.  I have to say, I’ve really enjoyed, in the ten years since my dad died, her gradual but steady swing to the left.  To me, it has seemed a way for her to reclaim a small but important part of her original self.

Anyway, it was a good birthday celebration.  She’s a good sport and a lot of fun.  A couple of times tonight, I caught her looking reflective and I wondered what she was thinking.   I know she deserved a whole lot more from some really key people in her life, but she’s not one to dwell on that.  My mom has always been a suck it up kind of person.  I just hope, on balance, she’s happy with her life, her choices, and the way things have gone.

She deserves that.