Yesterday I read about a woman who just turned 100. It was a lovely article in my newspaper with a headline of, “This healthy 100-year-old runs on coffee.” She sounds like a humdinger. She likes to sing at home and with the group Sweet Adelines. She helps her niece with crossword puzzles. She likes to keep busy. “I don’t sit and rock half the day, oh no,” she said.
The lady reminds me of my mom, who lived until May 31st of this year. She was 103. She, too, liked to keep busy. At eighteen, Mom was a city girl who married a railroad man who turned into a farmer. She followed her man from Washington to Missouri and back to Washington. Dad wanted home-made bread, so she baked bread. She cooked dinner for haying crews. And pies. Oh, the pies she baked. In later years a trip to the doctor or dentist was an occasion to bake as she always took a pie along.
I remember Mom as the farm wife. One time some animal was killing our free-range chickens. Mom sat in the field with a rifle, waiting. A feral dog arrived and she dropped him with a chicken in its mouth that ran away. But Mom had an independent streak. One year she decided that, just because Dad was a very active Grange member, she didn’t have to be. However, she missed it and returned. She actually later ended up as Master (that’s club president). But that independent streak went one step farther. When Dad retired, she did too. No more home-baked bread!
Mom loved to read. I remember when she had a copy of Forever Amber hidden in her room. (It was the scandalous novel of the time.) And she wrote. She was my inspiration. But while I write mysteries, she wrote poetry. I remember a long saga she could recite and sometimes amended. More often she wrote poems as gifts to friends on special occasions. She played the piano. Once she accompanied the soloist at a wedding. She often played piano at Grange meetings and whenever anyone wanted to sing at home.
There was a party for Mom’s 100th birthday where she lived. Since I lived across the continent from her, I wasn’t there that day, but my sister-in-law was. Mom received cards and ate cake (hers was sugar-free). Mom believed in walking for health. At the farm she measured with a tape measure, then walked that route until her goal was reached. At her assisted living home she walked the length of the hall twice a day. I remember Mom drinking coffee like the woman in the article, but her daily regimen included walking and drinking milk. It served her well.
Good bye Mom. We loved you.
I like to include book recommendations in each post. Two from my library are Missing Mom by Joyce Carol Oates and there was an old woman by Hallie Ephron. Neither one is a cozy mystery. The article referenced above can be seen here.