My Motherless Mother

She hung limply from the electrical cord in the center of the ceiling. Her sturdy black shoes were untied, her dress fluttered in the breeze of the floor fan. Her hair was in a neat chignon, her eyes empty and blank. That was how she found her Mother on an ordinary Monday afternoon. My Mom was thirteen years old and her quest to survive began that day.

Everyone has a Mother whether they know them, live with them or not. My Mom was a true original. She loved me, that I know for sure. There are no directions or manuals that come with parenthood. Our lives, filled with lessons, living and growth that come from the heart. My Mom had to learn along the way - she had no memories of a happy family life.

Mom thought of herself as a vagabond, a wanderer as she was pushed from Aunt to Aunt. No hugs, no empathy, no childhood. She honed her endurance skills and added resiliency. Tough on the outside, soft inside. Often she shared how she would keep herself to herself. That was not what she wanted for her daughter. Even when I was a child I knew she lived through me.

Pearl was her name. She was self taught in cooking, cleaning, fashion, etiquette and life. I swear the nurturing, and training gave me the skills to have been invited to have tea with the Queen. My creative left brain was fueled with opportunity. I received elocution lessons, modeling lessons, singing lessons. My after school schedule was filled with teaching and instruction. Countless hours devoted to a four year old memorizing a part in a play or a monologue contest. Patience and pride were her key words. The Pearl Method of Acting worked. I had shelves of trophies that represented over fifteen years of acting competitions. I played Peter Pan, Snow White, did commercials for Maytag Appliances and auditioned for a part in a professional theatre. I won the big role prize. The part of the president of the fan club, Ursula Merkle, in Bye Bye Birdie starring Broadway’s Chita Riviera. We reveled in the glory of these achievements and successes

Our single goal - together - acting or not was to aim for perfection with love and always reach for the win. When I won, I won for the both of us. When I lost, it was on to whatever came next. I loved it. I was instilled with the mantra to never give up. I can hear her saying, “When the worst hand in life is dealt to you just look around the corner with hope and the openness to move on. Determination and one foot in front of the other. Never let anything stop you. When one door closes another one opens if you choose to walk through it or you can climb through the window.”

My Mom met my Dad in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, when she was ten years old and he was twelve. They played stickball in the street. One day he confided to her she needed a bra. He became her confidant.

A wonderful twist of fate when both families moved to Miami. Their love lasted sixty-two years, till he past away at eighty-two. The last twenty-five years she cared for him as he suffered quietly from debilitating nerve damage, a failed surgery. When she could no longer keep him safe at home he moved to a nursing facility. Like clockwork daily she arrived at seven in the morning and stayed till eleven at night. I watched how she would cuddle with him in bed and let him answer the Jeopardy questions. I observed how her love was demonstrated, since my childhood, in her actions and the sweet whisperings for only him to hear. Pearl his consummate advocate. He thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Loyalty and care combined with honoring their years together was a life long exhibition in commitment.

I was thirty-five years old when two detectives were at my door after midnight. I made them wait outside till my Mother came to my house. She arrived in minutes wearing her paisley muumuu, a glass of milk in one hand, and an Oreo in the other.

The detectives entered with my parents. My husband had been found shot to death in a lime grove. My children were upstairs sleeping. My Mom looked at me and said, “This is the time to dig deep. You will survive. Your children will survive. We will get through this together. I’ll be by your side.”

We come into the world alone and leave alone. My Mom lived, in a nursing home to ninety-seven. She died during covid, not from it. I wasn’t allowed to see her in hospice. I didn’t get to tell her I loved her. I didn’t get to hold her hand, nor give her a kiss. She lived and died remaining true to her beliefs. “Never let them see you sweat.”

Pearl, remained a tough cookie till the end.