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By Kerry Dougherty The Virginian-Pilot May 13, 2012 I wish I had an amusing story to share with you for Mother's Day.But my eccentric mom's been dead almost 14 years, and I have toconcentrate really hard to even remember her voice. Sad, isn't it? I'm messing with you. My mother was unforgettable. Thischain-smoking, hardworking, sarcastic bank teller - queen of thedrive-in window in our little New Jersey town - provided my brotherand me with a cornucopia of memories. We knew from an early age that she wasn't like other moms. Shecouldn't cook, didn't bake and, in a neighborhood filled withhousewives, she always had a job. Many of our friends' mothers gently tried to build theirself-esteem and confidence, while ours - the product of aDickensian childhood - seemed determined to toughen us up. Let's just say it wasn't all Candy Land and warm cookies at ourhouse. When we were toddlers, for instance, my mom invented something shecalled "The Shrunken Head," which involved making ahorrible face, pulling her frizzy hair into a topknot and chasingus around the house as we shrieked in fear. When we graduated to board games, she made us work for a win. Teasing was her specialty. She loved to remind me that right afterI was born - back in the days when women were knocked out for birth- my father brought her flowers after seeing me in the nursery. "What does she look like?" my groggy mother asked. "A frog," my father supposedly replied. Like me, my mother had no shortage of opinions. Unlike me, none ofhers ever made any sense. She looked down on folks for no good reason. People who ate Ritzcrackers or Miracle Whip, or drank skim milk, for example. (We werea far superior saltine, mayo and whole-milk family.) She didn't like people from Princeton. Women who didn't wearlipstick. Or adults with small feet. "That's just not right," she'd mutter anytime she spied alarge person in size-6 shoes. Back in the day, before mothers knew about eating disorders, minedeclared that no woman should ever weigh more than 118 pounds. Whenshe crept close to that magic number, she'd eat nothing but icecream for dinner. "I have a sweet tooth," she'd shrug. "I can't skipdessert." She was a talented artist - I have one of her pen-and- inks in myliving room - who never took an art class. Heck, she never even graduated from high school, yet she was a whizat "Jeopardy!" She harbored a deep distrust of doctors and fought with hers whenhe ordered a mammogram after her mastectomy. She relented only after he guaranteed she wouldn't have to pay fullprice because she was down to just one breast. Which reminds me, I owe an apology to the well-intentioned womanfrom the breast cancer support group who unwittingly entered mymother's Virginia Beach hospital room after her surgery in 1992. I wish I'd tackled that cancer survivor in the hallway so I couldhave warned her that it would be a mistake to greet my mom with ahearty, "I'm here to tell you there's life after breastcancer." "Who said there wasn't?" my mother replied tartly,leaving the poor woman speechless and backing into the corridor. Turned out, there was life after breast cancer for my mom. It waslung cancer that got her. It's been 13 years, seven months and 27 days since I climbed onto ahospital bed, wrapped my arms around my mother and whispered intoher ear, "I love you, Mom. You're the best mother ever." When she didn't respond with a wisecrack, I knew. She really wasslipping away. Kerry Dougherty,757-446-2306,kerry.dougherty@cox.net,PilotOnline.com/dougherty. The e-commerce company in China offers quality products such as Wire Cutting Machines , Wire and Cable Machinery, and more. For more , please visit Wire Twisting Machine today!
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