Strong Women

I was raised by strong women. Women who value independence and work. My grandmother Margaret worked from early childhood, helping her mother tend children and cook for the men who were working in the logging camps. She later ran a large boarding house in Tallahassee where my mother grew up working alongside her. Then she worked in several dress shops before setting up her own home-based alterations and dressmaking business. My grandfather worked all over the place and did everything from barbering to ship-building, but Margaret will tell you she kept the household going. And she did. She was raised by Jennie, you know.

My mother is just like her. She never does anything half-way. She will tell you that if you aren't going to do something right then you shouldn't bother doing it at all. That is not a bad thing, but boy was it hard growing up trying to meet those standards. I gave up long ago. I will not iron for her or fold her laundry. She is just going to do it over again anyway. However, in my desperate attempt to make mom happy, I have learned to do quite a few things pretty well.

This is my mother around 1960. She attended boarding school in Thomasville, but since she was a Langston, she spent a good bit of time in the woods of Wakulla and Leon counties and couldn't help but learn to shoot a rifle. In curlers, no less. She is quite a formidable opponent now, so I doubt she backed down from much back then. I remember when she bought a pistol shortly after her divorce. Pat and I spent what seemed like hundreds of hours in the back of the jeep waiting on her to finish lessons at the shooting range. Had to do it right, ya know. Mom packed that pistol in a red felt bag and it went into the glove compartment of the car every time we left the house for the weekend. My mama was prepared for anything. Always.

My mom was the best dad ever. Left with a young son after her divorce, she made sure he had plenty of opportunities and equipment to learn all things manly. By the time we were in high school, Pat was the head fixer-upper, plumber and mechanic for our family. He had my granddaddy's mechanical mind so he learned quickly and of course mom made sure he did it all right the first time. Or at least the second. And you know what they say about birds of a feather so mom also had strong women friends as a support system. She and Pat Otwell and Billie Moore managed to get us raised up into productive and well-adjusted adults.

Pat and I also had a strong step-mother. Becky had managed to get my non-motivated, relaxed and happy dad to quit his job and apply for another one even though it meant moving half-way across the country. She also got him into Alcoholics Anonymous and stayed with him through what must have been hell as he got sober. She was a wonderful step-parent in that she never once made Pat and I feel like we weren't part of her family, too. All chores were distributed equally and everyone got equal amount of Christmas and Birthday. She worked full-time so the five of us had to look out for each other while doing useful things like making bread from scratch and watering the lawn. As we were growing up in this part-time blended family, all of us kids grew to love each other as brother and sisters and we felt this way to adulthood. We are all scattered about the country now, but I still count them as family. Miss Becky is responsible for that. She gave us structure and responsibility when we spent the weekends and summers with her and dad and that kind of environment is good for kids...makes us better grownups.

So thanks, moms. I appreciate the toughness now that I am raising my own children. I am nowhere near as structured as my mother thinks I should be, but that is okay...I know a few good therapists.