Mom Part 1

For a Irish woman she made some great Italian food. My friends always made it a point to come over when she was cooking. I was under no illusions of why they were there. I smiled and ate along with them. Her lasagna and pizza were the stars. Even to this day I have dreams about them, --sadly, I awake before I get the chance to savor them one last time.... My beautiful mother was born Patricia Grimmer in 1930. She was raised around Wrigley Field and was a rabid Cub fan [ she passed that along to her kids]. Her older sister was Gloria and from an early age there was a bond between them that never loosened through life. Mom grew up a upper middle class girl. Not rich, but, not hurting for money, which came in handy during the Depression. By her account, she was a happy little girl who adored her mother and father, especially her Dad. Dad would take her to those Cub games and she learned all the players names. That was a shared passion with her Dad. That passion was doused in 1949 when he died at the obscenely early age of 46. Mom was heartbroken. She still had her Mom, but, the tears were always there when she would speak of her Dad and I would sense, even years later , when  we would go to a game, that she was looking for his memory in that ballpark... After graduating high school, Mom got a job working as a teller in a bank. She would occasionally date, but, she was a shy girl and was searching for that right man. The man that was going to sweep her off her feet. And, she found him when she met my father at a wake... There are more romantic places to meet someone than a wake. I don't even know who it was that was lying in that casket, but, that person deserves a huge thank you. Dad was very witty and charming. Mom was a good audience. That makes for a good team. It became roles that they both never outgrew. Soon after, he took her out for their first date--- Mom tried pizza for the first time. I have tried to imagine what they talked about, but, it doesn't matter. Love was in the air. And, being the romantics that they were, they both knew that they found the person to share  life with. They were married in 1953... The first couple of years were a test for Mom. Not from Dad, but, my grandmother-- Dad's mother. She was the stereotypical Italian who believed that the son should take care of the mother. Mom tried,but, being non Italian put her at a disadvantage. It got to a point that Mom actually left my father for a short period of time. This was unheard of in the conservative 50's. Dad brokered a deal with the warring parties, but, there would always be a tension between the women in my father's life. He was torn... Things got better , though, when my sister was born...