Musings

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Mama II - History

Mama was more astute than Papa when it came to school. They had both enrolled in night classes to get their citizenship papers. The classes were in English and she had the edge on him when it came to reading English. Of course, she helped him study to get through the necessary examination. When they were awarded their certificates she got a big laugh out of the certificate that Papa received. The name on the certificate read Meji (wrong certificate) and she often told the story that the state said "You want a certificate? My eye!) It is funnier in the telling. There were times when she wanted to get away from the kids. One day she took me to the new Hollywood Theater on Fort Street, just the two of us. The movie was a Shirley Temple with her dancing and singing. I was four years old and Shirley was only slightly older than I was, yet, I saw her as larger than real life. Nobody I knew could do those things. I was pleased that Mama did not say she wanted me to try to that stuff. After we moved to Navy Street she once again took me to the movies. It was at the Capital Theatre on Vernor and Sargent York was showing. I remember being impressed with his religious conviction, not wanting to be swayed by others and always listening to his mama. When I saw the movie many years later I was impressed with his heroism and awards. Mama did like me best and I think all the others felt it. After all, I was her first born. When I was six she took me to Cunningham's Drugstore and bought me a Banana Split, my first one, and I ate it all, delicious. She had a Sundae which I noted cost less than a Banana Split. I was impressed that she gave me more than she had. While I am on me, for many years she made sure that I got a large piece of yellow cake with the chocolate icing. She knew it was my favorite and baked it often. To friends and relatives she was known as "Bete", a name we kids never called her. When we had company over for dinner that is the name that was most often heard. She always received compliments on her cooking and I could tell she enjoyed hearing them. A contrary incident I remember was when Ti Blanc was over and he proclaimed that he did not like carrots. He further stated that he was going to eat them "for penance." After the company had left, I overheard Mama talking to Papa and she was furious. She felt very insulted that her cooking was used for penance. At this time, we kids were eating with the adults ,but as the family got bigger, we kids were fed in the kitchen while the adults ate in the dining room. We ate after the adults. When they entertained my parents were not big on drinks. During the meal it was always water for adults and milk for the kids. Mama did not drink beer or liquor, her drink was tea. During the party portion of the evening Papa would serve Highballs to those that wanted one. It was a rare person that wanted a beer, but he had it if it was requested. Nobody we knew ever drank so much that they were incapicated. Maybe it was the paucity of the offerings. The lack of strong spirits did not in anyway diminish the enthausiam in laughing, singing and story telling. Papa was a good singer but it took a lot of cajoling to get Mama to sing. She would rather tell a story, she liked to make people laugh. She was good at risque stories but despised outright dirty ones. When it came to makeup Mama was enamored with face-powder and she used it heavily. One day she was talking to the priest at St. Gabriel's and she said something about not having enough time to take care of the kids. His answer: "Well if you would stay out of the bars maybe you would have enough time." He took her for a street walker because of the heavy makeup. I found it peculiar that she would tell this story on herself, yet, it did not change her face-powder applications. The Nuns at the school had explained to her that I was not doing as well as I could in school. One compliant was my poor spelling. For the next few days she sat with me and went over a spelling list. She never did receive a negative comment about me after that. Bernie was another story. He played with Donald Hood when he was in class and got many bad report cards. One Sunday, mama reported that the priest, from the pulpit, remarked to the congregation that he had seen one card with seven "U's". Mama said he was looking directly at her. She was angry at Bernie for all the playing around he was doing. She told him to stop hanging around with that "hood" because he was a true hood. Monday was wash day. I do not know how many loads of wash she did but it was enough to keep her busy for most of the day. (How much could it be when we changed our long underwear only once a week.) When we came home from school for lunch she was in the basement working on it. The wash was dried on lines set up in the basement. On wash day it was excruciatingly humid down there. I was never asked to help hang up clothes or take them down. Maybe the girls did that but Bernie and I escaped that task. Another task from which we escaped was clearing the table and doing the dishes, the girls did that. They did it but not without a struggle, they fought about it all the time. When two were clearing the table it was divided by a line in the middle. Nither girl would pick up what was on the line. Mama, to keep the peace, would clear what was on the line. One task I had was to put dishware up on a top shelf after the dishes were dried. She would always say: "Marcel, you are tall, put these up in the top shelf." I always did it when asked, yet, I do not recall ever anticipating that it was needed and positioning myself to that task. I don't think Bernie was ever asked to it, I was the tall one. She was a good card player, beter that Papa, but she did not flaunt it. She learned to play Bridge and could play well. Papa's game was Pinochle though he also learned to play Bridge. To him, it was always "playing carts." As stated earlier, Mama was a tea drinker. One day Papa offered to read her tea leaves. What she heard pleased her and Papa sensed this which prompted him to offer more often. She never asked him to read them, he had to offer. We kids sat spellbound while the cup was turned over in the saucer for proper drainage. He would turn the cup from side to side and talk about what he saw. One time Mama found something he said unbelievable and challenged him. He took it in stride and tilted the cup for her to see, pointed to some clustered leaves and said it was indisputable. I remember thinking then: where did he see this done, how did he learn to do it? There were other relatives that requested to have him tell their fortune by the tea leaves. It was my observation that Mama placed zero credence in it.

3 Comments:

  • Once again, thanks for revealing your personal recollections of Mama. Lots of new, interesting information. I was not even born when some of what you describe happened.
    You must have been the favorite. I don't recall Mama ever bringing me to the movies or buying me a banana split. I do recall two movies that Mama took the girls and I (I was too young to leave home alone): "Snow White" and "African Queen".

    By Blogger John Beauregard, at 8:10 AM  

  • If you do not recall the favoritism let me inform you. All five of us recognized that you were getting a pass on things others did not. For example: You, when the food was not to your liking, would leave the kitchen table and rush the next room, crying all the way. The rest of us had to sit until we ate. I was amazed at the freedom you had and the reluctance on Papa's part to administer punishment. I can remember some conversations between us kids as we puzzeled over what had become of justice in the family. Why were you being treated specially? Yet, we still loved you even though we felt you were spoiled.

    By Blogger Marcel, at 4:29 PM  

  • One more thing I have to be thankful for. My siblings did not kill me even though they felt I was unjustly spoiled.

    I am not sure not having to eat my vegetables compares with getting a banana split as evidence of favoritism.

    Crying is a defense mechanism against punishment. I learned that from observation and experience.

    By Blogger John Beauregard, at 8:56 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home