Siblings and a mother's love

From the beginning (of the series) I have watched a television program named Better Call Saul with some interest.  Initially I was simply intrigued with the character of Jimmy McGill and his evolution or “de”volution, into the Breaking Bad character Saul Goodman. -- Then they introduced us to Jimmy’s older brother Chuck.  Older brother,…. I had three of those,… now absorb this fact: all of my brothers were older than I by the measurement of a generation –they were adults long before I was born.

Chuck and Jimmy? They made me think of my mother’s son.  He was 26 years older than me.  He passed away, not long ago,…and some of you may be aware that we were,…for lack of a better word: estranged.  After our mother died I did not hear from her son, my half brother.  At one time in my life I called him “brother”, and I did that proudly.  At the same time he called me “HALF –sister”, at that time I shrugged off that label.  But that changed later.

So when Chuck says, “I made Mom proud” –well that was absolutely true for my mother’s son –he made her proud.  It’s a fact; I know it, his children know it,…. anyone who paid attention to our mother knows it –he made her proud and there was love in that.

And, much like Jimmy, I made (our) Mom laugh.  I was her friend, in the end.  Mom and I,….we were like each other’s “significant other” in many ways.  Let me explain….  You see, my Dad died when I was a kid.  It was just my mother and I for several years after dad died.  Then she married again, and there was another party present for quite a few years,..but that did not change our understanding of each other –mom and I.  And after her husband passed away, Mom came to live at my house.  Mom lived with me full time, and we had blast.  And her son, my half-brother felt that; he knew that we were close in a way he could never broach.  
I know that what I experienced with my (our) Mother was special…it was just the two of us for so many years. We talked to each other every day for more than 25 years.  There was no way that her son, who was an adult and lived in another state could possibly achieve what I had with our mother.  She was my friend, my mother, a kind of significant other,….we had inside jokes for crying out loud!  We were girlfriends! We shopped together, we watched television together,….and because we were mother and daughter we were inseparable.

I wish that everyone could have that with their mother or their father or both of their parents. That friendship and those kind of good times.  But I digress…..

As I stated a few paragraphs ago, I have watched the story play out, of a pair of siblings, with great interest….  “George made Mom proud. I made her laugh.”

George, you are gone now, so I cannot say this to your face,….  

Mom loved you so much. Mom was proud of you.  Mom did not have a favorite –the woman loved to brag about her children –BOTH OF US. 

You made her proud, and I made her laugh,… but there was always love in her heart.

(Any suggested similarity between television characters mentioned and my brother and myself ends at the sibling connection,... beyond that there is no resemblance between the afore mentioned fictional television characters and my family.)

Random memories of childhood

I am just going to ramble here,.... riffing,.... but thinking way back in history, when I was wee tot....

Riding in the back seat of the car.... in a booster seat that looked like this:

This is what it looked like, only it was black with salmon pink patterns on it.  Notice that there is no strap or belt, no cushioning.... I am pretty sure that there were no seatbelts in the back seat of the car,... so this was unsecured.  The intention, I believe, was that I would be able to see out the car window if I was sitting on the booster seat.

If we went into town, where there were parking meters, there was a baby food jar full of pennies in the glovebox of the car.  I was allowed to take the penny, and hold onto it, until we got out of the car and arrived at the parking meter..... I think my dad must have lifted me up, so that I could put the penny in the meter.  

I remember going to the bank, because there was a special platform for little kids to stand on to see the teller.... it was a little, portable staircase with a wide platform at the top.  And there was a security guard who had lollypops in his pocket.  I almost always got a green lolly-pop.

I also remember going to the lawyer's office.... (red arrow indicates approximate entrance)

the inside of the lawyer's office was wood panelled with knotty wood, and he had a large marlon on the wall.  Things a little kid remembers......

My Dad saying, "Let's go for a ride.",.... and his eyes, looking at me in the rear view mirror, "sing for me."  And he would drive and I would sing... the abc's, and whatever other songs I could think of,... and if we went very far I would start over again with the abc's.  When Dad said we were going for a ride he usually had a destination in mind,...some friend's or relative's house.... seems like wherever we went someone was home, and they were happy to have a visit.

I can remember riding home from Uncle Carl and Aunt Eleanor's house,... down their street I could see the second floors of the houses, from where I sat in the back seat of the car.... after we turned a couple of corners we could go faster, and then I would look up and see street lights -along Manheim Road, passing the entrance to O'Hare Airport.   Or the long ride to our summer house on the Chain Of Lakes.... it took an hour to get there,...following one of 5 or 6 different routes... My dad liked to follow different routes, he had wanderlust that way....

Summer evenings going "for a ride" and seeing beautiful sunsets,... staying too late,..lightning bugs alight in the warm summer evenings as we would climb back into the car to head for home......hushed in the back seat of the car, listening to my parents talk about things they had discussed with whoever we had been visiting....

Quiet summer Sunday nights, eating ice cream and watching the Lawrence Welk Show....
Winter evenings at the greenhouse,..watching variety shows... having to go to bed at 8:30pm, and listening to the television from my room....across from the living room... the television droning me to sleep, as my Dad sat in the recliner and slowly fell asleep himself.... the National Anthem playing in the wee hours, just before the broadcast day ended...hmmmmmmmmmmmmm--the endless drone of the test pattern, and my mother's voice: "Jim,...Jim, wake up and come to bed..."