Streetcars and Ravens- Lessons from Mama

          “Men are like streetcars, if you don’t catch this one, there will be another along very shortly.” And “Don’t mock your mother, the ravens will peck out your eyes.”. Unorthodox?, Maybe even a little disturbing? For me, these two pieces of advice rank right up there with “Always wear clean underwear, in case you are in an accident.” The oft-repeated admonitions I heard over the years reveal a lot about who my mother really was.

          My Mama spent her early years in the San Francisco, California area. Thus, the streetcar reference.  Really, it’s not like there were multiple men in her life. She married my Daddy when she was seventeen, they divorced and she raised me and my sister as a single mother. Then, she married the love of her life when she was 40. I think this unusual gem had been spoken by her own mother, and its message is a good one for young women. They mean to say to us, don’t pin your hopes, your dreams, your life on another person. Be stable enough in yourself that you can carry on. Thankfully, I have not had to test this in my own lifetime.

          The second, rather graphic reference also came via my grandmother. She was sent to a convent (what we would term today as a private school) as a youngster. I didn’t realize the origin of this “threat” until I saw the movie “The Passion of the Christ”. An unforgettable image, to be sure. Always delivered tongue in cheek, it usually followed something a bit embarrassing or funny that had happened to Granny or Mama. It was meant to remind us to be respectful (while hiding our giggles behind our hands).

          “Get mad at it, and get it done” usually followed by my full name- “Jenny Sue”. A natural born procrastinator and conflict avoider, it has always taken more than a little prompting to get me up and moving. This particular one always pops into my head as deadlines approach, or when the kitchen needs cleaning after a family dinner.

          “There’s a lot of great free stuff to do out there.” As children, she took us on a vacation every year, and  we stretched those dollars until they squealed. We travelled to California once in a VW bug, and though we didn’t camp out (recall the single parent thing), we did cook out on a Coleman camp-stove at rest areas along the way. Some attractions were pretty pricey at times, but we also entered every museum, read every historical marker, stood on the curb for every parade we could find. What great memories!

          “Enjoy God’s creation, but don’t be afraid to grab a hoe or a shovel to whack something when necessary.” Okay, these actual words never crossed her lips. But, there was a contrast that speaks volumes in my mother’s life. She loved to stand at her kitchen window to watch the birds that built their nest in the artificial flowers in the window box. However, when her faithful dog awakened the neighborhood by barking incessantly at an invading critter, she would venture out, armed with a flashlight and the sharpest garden implement she could find to dispatch the varmint, whether it was an opossum, or even a poisonous snake. This was one reason we encouraged her to wear an alert button as she got older.

          “Be creative”. Another one I learned by her example. She was an expert at brightening every corner where she lived, and on a budget. Seasonal decorations, home-made Christmas ornaments, hand painted craft items that sold like hotcakes when she and my step dad were “on the road”.  There was no limit to her imagination, and her desire to share it.

          “Be generous, even if you have to be sneaky about it.” With apologies to our frugal husbands. Mama was all about slipping some cash to you discreetly, and she had a list of charities that were the beneficiaries of what she called “drops in the bucket” each month. I’m sure they are all missing her dependability very much these days.

          “The perfect place to learn to sing harmony is inside a VW bug.” What wonderful songs emerged as we bounced along. Everything we heard at church or on the radio was fair game. If you rode along with us, joining in was a survival technique.

          “Find out all you can about your ancestors.” Books, books and more books survive to be distributed to her children, step-children, grand-children. It’s all there. The answer to every question you could ever pose. She would always remind you to look it up in your family book. Goodness knows, she spent enough time compiling them!

          “Make friends everywhere you go.” This is probably her most surprising legacy. There was not a doctor visit, a trip to the grocery store, or a walk to the mailbox that didn’t include smiling and speaking to someone, especially those who looked a little down-trodden. A quick honk on the bicycle horn attached to her walking stick broke the ice, and pleasant conversation always followed. As her time on earth ran out, we were amazed at the people that literally came out of the woodwork to bid her Godspeed. She had friends she talked to on the phone, corresponded with by mail, hugged on her way down the hall at the nursing home. These were not just token gestures of respect, but true and lasting friendships. Try as I might, I feel I will never measure up to her success in this regard. But, I owe it to her to keep trying.       

          So, for the first time in my life, I have no-one to send a Mother’s Day card to. I can only hope that my legacy will be as interesting and inspirational. This column is dedicated with all my love to Merry Lu Barnett McLeod Tuggle, November 22, 1933 to November 1, 2013.

The Benefits of Exercise

Siblings, raised in the same environment could not have been more different as children. One was outside from day-light to dark, shepherding (rabble-rousing?) the neighborhood kids. Always active, fit as a fiddle. The other was inside, with her nose in a book, a pencil in her hand, desperate to write down the stories that lived in her head. Three guesses which one was me. Here’s a clue- though both are still very active and creative, only one writes a monthly column in a monthly magazine. (Ha!)

I was not totally averse to playing outside as a girl. It just took something exciting to pry me loose from my beloved stories. If there was a game of freeze tag or kickball happening, I could usually be drafted. But just running around aimlessly wasn’t my cup of tea.

As I got older, exercise was just a by-product of some other activity I enjoyed. I became a fairly good swimmer because the municipal pool is where all of my friends hung out each summer. Swimming lessons were accomplished in self-defense, as some of those boys thought “dunking” girls the greatest past-time ever.

When my Mom determined that she needed to lose weight, we all took up bike riding. We covered every inch of our small town, usually after supper in the evenings. Our route was gauged by how long it would take us to arrive back home. There were only a few times when we had to utilize the battery operated lights that were strapped to the handlebars. Besides developing strong leg muscles, we learned the rules of the road, and a good sense of direction. I can still find my way around that town on return visits, after having lived elsewhere for over 40 years.

I’m quite sure that around that same time, I walked my first and only marathon, from one end to the other of the same town. The event was the March of Dimes walk-a-thon, and I was motivated by the chance to raise money for a good cause, and by spending an entire day accomplishing what seemed an insurmountable distance of twenty-six miles with my best buddies.  We started at about 8:00 a.m. and finished around 5:30 p.m. I don’t recall a lot of people crossing the finish line after us. Nowadays, marathoners train for months. I’m reasonably sure I hadn’t given any thought to a training regimen, and I most assuredly slept for the whole next day.

Even my love for drama and music prompted opportunities to stay in shape. In theater class, a friend and I performed musical sketches in competitions. One of these involved some fairly involved choreography in top hats and tails. All these years later, she’s still at it, performing with the Sweet Adelines, a female barbershop quartet organization. And me, well, I’m not sure I could focus on singing and dancing at the same time these days.

Speaking of coordination, I managed to muster quite a bit of that when I was a member of the marching band. Pre-sunrise practices on the football field and on the city streets; memorization of countless show tunes and marching formations; hour after hour of “do it once more”; this was as close to being a real athlete as I would ever get.

After moving to Arkansas, I learned to water-ski, mostly to feel a part of my new “lake-loving” family. I thoroughly enjoyed the challenge of rising from the water, at first on two skis, and soon balancing on one, slalom-style. Then, of course, staying up was simple, as long as the driver of the boat kept a constant speed, and a safe distance from obstacles. I still tease my step-brother about the time he was driving the boat and the motor came to a stuttering stop. Out of gas? Only temporary, as he had a reserve can in the boat. But what a disappointment, to come to an abrupt, splashing halt. His circle back around seemed to take forever, but thankfully, my ever-present ski-belt and the ski itself kept my head safely above the fishes.

            When and why did I stop water-skiing? I am not really sure. At any rate, that activity is long in my past now, and my body will never be able to rise to that occasion again.

          While raising kids, sticking to a hard and fast routine was not in the picture. I managed some aerobics classes in the days of Olivia Newton John’s “Let’s Get Physical”, but had to stop when I bounced a little too hard on my ankles. Walks around the still sleeping neighborhood before work each day were always enjoyable. When and why did I stop that? Hmmm.

          Now, I have discovered an activity that again combines my love for music with movement and flexibility. Early morning Zumba classes provide the challenge of keeping up with ladies half my size, and with twice my energy. Every now and again, I get the feeling that I may be “getting it right”, and that is a totally energizing sensation.

          The point of all of this? Whatever your motivation, keep moving! Inactivity is our biggest enemy as we age. It is so much easier to keep something up than it is to relearn and start over. The weather is not an excuse. There are plenty of sunshiny days ahead, and lots of activities also happen inside! Enjoy, and stay healthy!