My life was wine and roses until I was 25, and it wasn't because Mom and Dad were living it up. It had to do with Gerald and Shirley's immense love and the safety they provided for their three children.
Today is "Puggie" Syrja's 82nd birth anniversary; she was five weeks younger than my father. She was the first grade teacher who was the first one to arrive and the last to leave each day. When she and Dad took in their son and his year-old child after I was widowed in 1980, my relationship to both my parents became tighter and stronger than it had ever been. One of my favorite ongoing memories with Mom--whether I was 17 or in my early 30s--was sitting in her kitchen on Sunday nights while she prepared her lessons and visual materials for the upcoming week. I did a lot of lettering for her classroom posters; while I drank coffee (Mom may have quit having evening java by the time I was 30) and worked with her, we shared lots of thoughts. In my college years, late teens and up, I wrote home often and wasn't afraid to talk about that coming of age stuff--too much information! But it was so easy to do that, because Mom and Dad didn't judge me.
Mom has to be credited with igniting my love of music. And while I was never a great student, proper English, correct punctuation and a dignified manner of speech (Mom:
"I can't stand it when parents let their children say, 'I have to pee' ") meant everything to her and eventually to me. Mom disdained direct lyrics, such as the 1980s ballad "Always" by Atlantic Starr (where the husband says to his wife, "let's go make a family"). On the other hand, she was no cultural prude, either, as she loved television shows like "Two and a Half Men" or the first few seasons of "Desperate Housewives." In the 1970s, when Mom was into the TV mini-series "The Thornbirds," both my brother and I referred to it as "The Hornybirds." Good thing we were teenagers by that time, or Puggie would have come after us with the wooden spoon!
Unlike my third grade teacher, Miss Payne, who told me that I was "wasting my life" by going nuts over the Beatles, Mom encouraged every passion that her two sons and daughter had. She became my daughter Mirelle's mom after that horrendous day in 1980 when my life turned into a fog. She raised a remarkable young woman--I wish I could say that my parenting skills were even close to that, but they weren't. Mom and I had an emotional moment in 2004, when my Dad was a year in the grave and Mirelle graduated from law school. I was regretting my serious shortcomings as a father and my teary-eyed mother shot back, "You did the best you could!" She meant every bit of that. I wish I could believe her assessment.
Mom stood by me throughout my life; I used that as a crutch for far too long. When I was 12 (I know it was 1967 because the Easybeats' great "Friday On My Mind" was a hit at the time), I would sometimes ride with Mom into downtown Mt. Clemens on Saturdays when she had her hair done. She would go inside and I would stay in the car, playing the radio. Or I would go over to Kresge's and get a submarine sandwich. One time I was at the food counter, showing no assertiveness whatsoever. Mom watched in the background as the clerk kept waiting on others instead--did she ever yell at that gal for ignoring her boy. But Mom loved children so much that I think she would have done something similar to that for any kid. Gradually I got out of that wallflower existence; today, when I introduce myself to strangers at a social event, I know where that mature gesture comes from.
Thank you Mom for everything you did for me, whether or not I deserved it. Your love has always been life-enhancing.
Today is "Puggie" Syrja's 82nd birth anniversary; she was five weeks younger than my father. She was the first grade teacher who was the first one to arrive and the last to leave each day. When she and Dad took in their son and his year-old child after I was widowed in 1980, my relationship to both my parents became tighter and stronger than it had ever been. One of my favorite ongoing memories with Mom--whether I was 17 or in my early 30s--was sitting in her kitchen on Sunday nights while she prepared her lessons and visual materials for the upcoming week. I did a lot of lettering for her classroom posters; while I drank coffee (Mom may have quit having evening java by the time I was 30) and worked with her, we shared lots of thoughts. In my college years, late teens and up, I wrote home often and wasn't afraid to talk about that coming of age stuff--too much information! But it was so easy to do that, because Mom and Dad didn't judge me.
Mom has to be credited with igniting my love of music. And while I was never a great student, proper English, correct punctuation and a dignified manner of speech (Mom:
"I can't stand it when parents let their children say, 'I have to pee' ") meant everything to her and eventually to me. Mom disdained direct lyrics, such as the 1980s ballad "Always" by Atlantic Starr (where the husband says to his wife, "let's go make a family"). On the other hand, she was no cultural prude, either, as she loved television shows like "Two and a Half Men" or the first few seasons of "Desperate Housewives." In the 1970s, when Mom was into the TV mini-series "The Thornbirds," both my brother and I referred to it as "The Hornybirds." Good thing we were teenagers by that time, or Puggie would have come after us with the wooden spoon!
Unlike my third grade teacher, Miss Payne, who told me that I was "wasting my life" by going nuts over the Beatles, Mom encouraged every passion that her two sons and daughter had. She became my daughter Mirelle's mom after that horrendous day in 1980 when my life turned into a fog. She raised a remarkable young woman--I wish I could say that my parenting skills were even close to that, but they weren't. Mom and I had an emotional moment in 2004, when my Dad was a year in the grave and Mirelle graduated from law school. I was regretting my serious shortcomings as a father and my teary-eyed mother shot back, "You did the best you could!" She meant every bit of that. I wish I could believe her assessment.
Mom stood by me throughout my life; I used that as a crutch for far too long. When I was 12 (I know it was 1967 because the Easybeats' great "Friday On My Mind" was a hit at the time), I would sometimes ride with Mom into downtown Mt. Clemens on Saturdays when she had her hair done. She would go inside and I would stay in the car, playing the radio. Or I would go over to Kresge's and get a submarine sandwich. One time I was at the food counter, showing no assertiveness whatsoever. Mom watched in the background as the clerk kept waiting on others instead--did she ever yell at that gal for ignoring her boy. But Mom loved children so much that I think she would have done something similar to that for any kid. Gradually I got out of that wallflower existence; today, when I introduce myself to strangers at a social event, I know where that mature gesture comes from.
Thank you Mom for everything you did for me, whether or not I deserved it. Your love has always been life-enhancing.
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