Memoirs of Mom

Everybody in my family knows the story of how my mom and my uncle (her brother in law) got roped into a social situation where they were expected to play a card game. Since both of them were "clueless", my mom urged him to be a good sport and start playing. My uncle had a broad smile and a sense of humor himself, so he went along with it. Pretty soon, they were the center of attention as they put cards in their shirts and behind their ears. People stared in amazement and asked what on earth they were playing. And my mom said, as if they should know, "Well, we're playing Japalapa".
She urged me also to learn all the rules and strategies of another game, as we sat outside during my college homecoming; she told me to "broaden my horizons." So I said to her, "Okay, then, tell me, what's going on out there?" She chirped back, "Well,that's easy; we're watching a football game!"
My mother took my brother and girlfriend driving. When she went round and round in circles in the parking lot, his girlfriend, laughingly and nervously, asked what she was doing. Her reply was, "Oh, just driving around."
Since she was a minister's wife, Mom volunteered to be camp nurse at Bible Camp, I witnessed her painting a girl camper's inner throat. As the poor camper gagged loudly, my mother "hawhaw"ed just as loudly, like she was getting a real kick out of torturing the poor girl.
My three brothers did some very creative clay work, building forts, marching soldiers, boats, and the like, and Mom came in to look. She inquired, "What's That?" while concurrently taking her thumb, "Splat!" to one of the clay pieces and flattening it.
When my two oldest brothers arrived after hitch hiking from the University of Wisconsin, all three got Mom laughing uncontrollably, as she held her sides and turned crimson: They also laughed imitatively, with an exagerrated, "Nuck, Nuck, Nuck!" while holding their sides and egging her on and on.
Since my mother was my schoolmate's supervisor at a large church nursing home, my friend was a little afraid of Mom. As my companion was rinsing out infirmary patients' diapers and putting them through the ringer, she was getting water all over the floor. Mom only stopped to observe, looked serious for awhile, then held her sides and laughed uproariously. My friend said she never was afraid of her beyond that time, relieved that she discovered her sense of humor.
In that same nursing home, a new director took over and took a shine to my mom, so whenever they were out of sight, for example, in the stairwell, he hugged her, "Hello". She really didn't know what to do about this, but when he introduced her to a V.I.P. he was trying to impress, she leaned over the director at his desk, gave him a "passionate" bear hug, and kissed him. Then, she turned and "explained" to the guest, "We always greet each other this way." She never had a problem with his overtures again.
A male cousin said about Mom that she was "pretty and entertaining". For example, Mom entertained my husband's friend in Colorado, who had my late brother's personality type and traits. She confessed she "saw" her youngest son all over again in him. She told him a story about how she got me under control when I was small by telling me a story of a mouse, who wanted cheese; he ate and ate and ate until he had a stomach ache. Then the mouse said, "Squeak,Squeak, Squeak," so that's why she'd made a pattern of "Squeaker the Mouse" for me. She went on and on relentlessly and animatedly repeating, "Squeak, Squeak, Squeak..." in a high "mouse" voice. My husband and his buddy laughed interminably; his friend looked and acted like my brother as he held his sides, quietly laughing, interspersing his quiet chuckling with guffaws and hoots. They were laughing so hard, they both had to leave; then, they went to a nearby cemetery and laid on the ground. His pal said, "I can't take it," and both laughed until their sides hurt. The next morning, his friend said, "Anita, you have a fine mother!"
At the family farm, when they made home movies, Mom said she thought the movies were stupid, because people didn't do anything but stand there and wave. So she and my middle brother decided to weave through the crowd of relatives. When they asked what they were doing, she said, "Oh, just milling around."
On the same farm, my oldest aunt played a game with my, then, two-and-a-half year old daughter. With auntie's meek child-sensitive voice, she tenderly touched her little forehead with a gentle little knock, saying, "Knock on the door," and with a soft turn of her nose, said, "Open the latch.." As my little girl's mouth opened, she said, demonstrating with two forefingers, "Walk in," then, pulled my daughter's chin tenderly, lifted it up and down, said, "How do you do?"
My older girl cousin thought that was sweet, but then went to her other aunt, my mother, and demonstrated on her, how my mother would do it: "KNOCK ON THE DOOR!" BAM! BAM! "OPEN THE LATCH!" TWIST! TWIST! "HOW DO YOU DO?!!"PULL! PULL! Mom agreed laughingly, and they both roared.
She often changed names and words. For example, she called Carl Anderson, "Bub" Carlson. And she explained that scientists said plants really grow when you talk to them, because you're breathing "carbohydrates" on them.
When we were both ten years old, my cousin got her head dunked under water while Mom shampooed her long hair, and sang "There's a joy, joy, joy, joy...down in my heart...Where!? Down in my heart...Where!? Down in my heart..."
I think her joy and laughter came from a deep reservoir of faith that she, interestingly enough, took very seriously.
There were many stories of Mom. A female cousin, on the Swedish side, told how you couldn't write down the things she said and did and get the same experience, because of her actions and inflections. Then, she demonstrated that when a very tall man entered the room, Mom (her aunt) strode up to him, raised her arm, threw her head back, and proclaimed, "You're sooo...." (deepening her voice) "TA...LL!"
Despite this disadvantage, I simply write it out as best I can, since there's no one in the world who could be Mom but Mom.