Weave the Web

Chapter 1:

 

I don’t really remember Mom bouncing me on her knee or playing “trot, trot to Boston”…but she did it with the grandchildren, so more than likely she did it with me.  I do remember, “1 – 2 – 3 – OWL!” and staring into those hazel “bedroom” eyes.  (That term I learned much much later.)

 

 

 

I remember fondly her cooking and how she introduced me to such a variety of foods like meat loaf and ham and tongue, and even beef steak and kidney pie.  To this day, however, I cannot eat a banana.  I used to tell her it was because she forced me to eat it as a child.  And of course, her quick reply was, “Oh Stop it! I did not!”

 

I remember her packing for me when it was time to go to camp.  My name neatly sewn in all of my clothes so I would return with the same ones I left with. My best friend, Bernie, loved to come over and watch me tease Mom by putting “odd” things in my suitcase like books, radios, clocks; anything I could find just so I could hear Mom say, “Larry! You don’t need that!” or “What in heaven’s sake are you taking that for?”

 

I was not a confident young boy having to live in the shadows of my three smart and successful sisters.  I remember liking this one girl and telling Mom and saying “I am not good enough for her…”  Mom got mad and shook me by the shoulders and said, “Don’t you ever feel that way…you are very special and there is nobody too good for you.”

 

Just before I left for college Mom sat me down on the couch and said, “Larry, you are going into the best four years of your life.  I want you to have fun, be careful, and don’t get caught.”  I followed her advice: had fun, and with a little help from my sister, Janet, did not get caught.

 

 

 

Chapter 2:

 

When Dad died in December, 1974, I was working in the Bank of Nova Scotia in Toronto.  My boss, Al Blake, knew of Dad and had a tremendous respect for all he had given to the bank.  When I told him Dad had passed away, he told me to take care of my Mom and come back when I was ready.  The next three weeks were very special for me.  I was able to help Mom meet her friends, and establish a foundation that would carry us through the next twenty-five years.  I loved to visit Ormond Beach.  We would eat our dinner on TV trays while watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune. 

 

She always had her “list of things” for me to do.  It usually took me about ten minutes, and I was done.  I actually enjoyed cleaning out the icebox or clearing off the kitchen counters…even though I knew it wouldn‘t be long before they were right back in an over-cluttered state.  We always loved to go out to lunch to the Yacht Club or Jillians or some new place she was dying to try.

 

Entertaining was the best.  She would love to have dinner parties, Derby parties, brunches and the like.  After everyone left, we would talk about each person.  “..Helen didn’t look very well; Mr. Pownell is certainly opinionated; Ann, I love her to death, but she is certainly a talker;  Blaine is sooo funny, etc”

 

I remember asking Mom for her ring because I was going to ask Tammy to be my wife.  She said, “That would be very nice, but I want it replaced.”  So I spent $150.00 on a ring for my Mom.  You know if I had spent $10.00 on that ring, that would have been fine too.  Of course, she welcomed Tammy into the family with open arms.  Tammy loved to help mom with whatever she wanted.  Tammy always said, “Your Mom is sooo appreciative of everything we do.”

 

As Mom’s health began to turn, we were so thankful for all the nice friends around to help her along.  The Samples, Caugheys, Townsends, Robbins, and Larsons, to name a few.

 

I remember Mom burning down her kitchen, banging the car, and starting to fall down.  (Not all in the same day!)  Giving up the car was not as bad as we thought.  Giving up the house took a little more work.  And the move to California was a triumph!

 

The last five years, my closeness to Mom never waned, but news of her was communicated through Carol and sometimes, Nancy.  We made some effort to call Mom, and for ten minutes all she could say was, “What? I can’t hear you,” or “That’s nice.”  I never was a letter writer, which is no excuse, but I knew in my heart she was in the best possible place and being taken care of by Carol.  Carol would visit every day, read to her friends, and help Mom.  As Mom’s health got worse, Carol and Nancy said if I wanted to see Mom alive, I should plan a trip to California.  I chose not to go.

 

I feel very good about my Mom.  She always said, “If it wasn’t for you four children, I don’t know what I would do…”  I have no regrets.  I remember Mom as an active loving person always willing to give more than she had, and forever being thankful for everything in her life – no matter how great or how small.

 

How appropriate…sitting on my sister’s patio overlooking the entire Santa Rosa valley watching the incredible fireworks display.  I imagined that everyone was doing this for my Mom. Not only celebrating our country’s independence, but the independence of Beverly H. Webster who now joins my Dad and has found eternal peace.

 

I love you Mom, and will miss you very very much.