My Mother was... interesting.
She was a "surprise" baby... youngest of seven kids.
Born in 1925, she used to relate one of her earliest memories from early depression days:
"Mother, I'm hungry."
"I'm sorry sweetheart, I have nothing to feed you."
Mother's life could be a book.
But she was gifted and strong in odd ways.
She could sing like an angel. She came from a family of musically talented people.
At Church, people would actually sit near her to hear her sing.
She knew that and took pride in it.
I knew it too and was proud of her.
By ear, she played piano and accordion.
One of my fondest memories is listening to Mom on the piano, after my sister and I had gone to bed, struggling to make her way through one of my Dad's favorites... "Clair De Lune", without making a mistake. (I don't think she ever did.)
But she was a decent accordion player.
At almost any gathering, given the chance, she'd uncase her accordion and entertain those gathered.
I thought she'd appreciate a joke I heard, so I repeated it to her-
On a trip across the country a man stops to get a bite to eat.
He orders his meal, then remembers his accordion is in his car and he has forgotten to lock his doors.
Keys in hand, he races out to secure the automobile only to find out he is TOO LATE...
Someone has left ANOTHER accordion in his car.
Mother didn't think it was funny.
