I often admired people who spoke at the funeral of a loved one and wondered how they could possibly do that. But when mom died we realized that it was important for us that her friends and relatives really know the type of person we loved from our perspective.
Her life with dad began at the Waltham Stop & Shop where mom was the cashier and dad was the bag boy. He was a rough-around-the-edges city boy who surely fell for her because of her warm, sweet charm. He did what most love-struck boys would do when they wanted to date a younger girl...he lied about his age, saying he was 22 when really he was 26.
They were married two years later and moved to Marlborough. The year was 1963 and they bought a brand-new home for the exorbitant price of $23,000. It wasn’t easy making that mortgage payment of $98 a month- but with dad’s job at Pampalone’s Music Center and mom’s frugal spending they always managed. Soon their children were born, and the house was full and chaotic with shared bedrooms and bunkbeds.
You could get a wonderful glimpse at what Mom was like by looking at our family dinners. She always put effort into making sure there was a homecooked meal for us. Although mom always cooked the meal, Dad was the one to serve it and begin the assembly line where we each passed a full plate to the person sitting next to us. At dinner conversations ranged from school, to friends, to Carolyn’s misdemeanors. Meal times were never long enough for Mom, and us kids would often ditch the kitchen table to play kick-the-can with the neighbors until Mrs. Formasani rang her “time to come inside” bell. We would return to find Mom still eating her dinner, enjoying her own company. She really had an appreciation for the small things.
Her sweet, calm demeanor was contrasted with her ferocity behind the wheel. She would drive grandma’s motor home on windy streets or zip her station wagon through busy cities and packed highways. She would always say “Heidi geh'mer” to us before road trips and instead of flipping off other drivers, she would blurt out, “DRY UP!”
When her kids were all enrolled in school mom took a job as a Home-Economics teacher at Ashland High School. She was a popular teacher- sewing aprons with her students one week and baking snickerdoodles the next in an ongoing rotation that left her so well-versed in baking and sewing she could’ve made them in her sleep.
When Home-Ec was no longer offered in high school mom transferred to Assabet Valley High School where she taught English and later worked in the front office. She loved having school vacations, snow-days and summer’s off with her family.
While we didn’t go on expensive vacations, we had creative ones. Mom took us to the library where we would enter the Summer Reading Contest that Carolyn and Christine almost always won. She would play telephone tag to arrange playdates and rides for us, ensuring that we all were in the right place at the right time.
She even enrolled us all in swimming lessons and then installed an above ground pool where we would love to swim and play with our friends. We would go to Memorial Beach to swim and then buy sticky 15 cent Sugar Daddy Lollipops to eat in the station wagon on our way home.
Mom made sure her kids were educated both in school and out. She would cut out articles and cleverly “leave” them in just the right place for us to discover. Articles about the dangers of smoking, talking to strangers or pre-marital relations. She taught us about the birds and the bees when we were on a car ride so we couldn’t escape.
Mom had lots of hobbies and interests. She loved crossword puzzle books which she would bravely complete in PEN. She was an avid football fan and enjoyed cheering on the Patriots and later Notre Dame. She loved John Denver and would play his tapes or CD’s in her car. She knew all the words and would often sing along quietly to “Leaving on a Jet Plane”.
Even if something wasn’t her hobby, if her children loved it, she was quick to participate. She’d listen to Metallica at full volume in the car with Jason, despite it being painful for her.
Mom enjoyed reading cookbooks. She read them in the same way that people read a novel. She’d sit in her worn-in, maroon recliner and read them from cover to cover- often folding down the pages and making annotations in the columns of possible substitute ingredients. She was the queen of substitutions- and often changed a recipe so much it didn’t even remotely resemble the original. All the while, Dad would obediently eat her crazy concoctions. Maybe you’ve had the chance to eat one of her grilled cheese sandwiches with marmalade inside and mayonnaise outside.
We can’t remember Mom, without remembering her sense of humor. She had an unparalleled ability to laugh at herself, and would surely laugh if she knew we were teasing her about her cooking.
She loved anything that was manufactured and advertised by the “As Seen on TV” company. She was first in line for the Ramen microwave cooker, the Ove-Glove, the Perfect Brownie Pan and The Wonder Hanger Organizer. Let’s not forget the year we all got Miracle Defrosting Sheets for Christmas, which were most certainly just a metal sheet.
One of her favorite gadgets was her label maker. She always kept it energized, loaded and ready in her top drawer. She would label her many spices, her recipe binders, her medicine cabinet and even envelopes to be mailed. She never figured out how to change the font or type size- so everything came out in large-screaming CAPS.
Mom was the original recycler. She would carefully unwrap any gift that was given to her so that she could re-use the paper. She would wash out her Ziplock baggies for re-use and iron tissue paper nice and flat. She was cautious about spending money- a trait most likely learned from her dad, John Schuch.
She had a love of Hallmark cards. She measured how much people cared by the number of cards she collected. It was all about quantity when it came to mom. The more cards the better. She’d store the cards in a shoebox to re-read at a later date and marvel at the kindness of others. Because she valued cards so much she was certain to send a card to those she loved with a crisp 1 dollar bill inside, usually accompanied by a note that said “Don’t spend this all in one place.”
As time went on mom’s family expanded. Her kids grew up and grandchildren arrived. Her six grandkids loved spending time with her. She was an avid board game player and was thrilled at the opportunity to play Chutes and Ladders, Sorry, Go Fish, or endless games of Monopoly with the grandchildren. She loved spoiling them with attention and food. It was waffles and ice cream for breakfast when you stayed at Nonnie and Pa’s house.
Mom enjoyed crafting and made a quilt for each of her grandkids and their dolls and teddy bears too.
She loved her church, St. Matthias, and was often a participant at the Christmas Bazaar, making ornaments, Christmas quilts, magnets, and pillowcases to sell. She would make a birthday cake on Christmas morning so we could sing “Happy Birthday to Jesus”, something we enjoyed as children but would quickly roll our eyes at as teenagers.
She was constantly scanning the world for people to help. She was a charitable person- giving much of her time and talents to help others. She was a CCD teacher and a bread-baker for her church; while wearing a hairnet and gloves she would carefully cut the bread into tiny little squares for communion.
Mom loved party-planning and would often lose sleep for weeks before an event. Planning the food, the activities, the gifts, the guest list. She loved gathering with her family for cards- the favorite game was “May-I” where they’d place $1 bets on each game.
Through all of these interests and activities you could see mom’s loving personality shine through. She was kind, considerate, thoughtful. She was empathetic, open-minded, and accepting. She could easily make conversation with just about anyone. She was our cheerleader- believing in all of our crazy ideas and encouraging us along the way. She saw the good in everyone.
Mom has left us children with several things including:
To say that we will miss you would be an immense understatement.
We will see you in the nooks, the crannies, the small moments. Next Thanksgiving when we have traditional turkey and mashed potatoes we’ll miss your corn casserole and glorified rice.
When we’ve searched every cabinet for that last ingredient and just can’t find it. We’ll think of you when we look for a substitute.
When someone says, “Can you change the channel? Football is on.” we’ll practically hear it in your voice.
And whenever someone gushes over finding “The perfect gift for the Yankee Swap,” we’ll smirk knowing that you, probably, could have done even better.