My mother, Lola Mae Reum, was born 100 years ago today. Although she passed in 2006, I see and feel her in her namesake, my daughter Lola. She came from a farming family in a little town in Illinois, and was the apple of her father's eye. She nearly died several times from tuberculosis, and was raped. Despite the adversity she faced, she faced life squarely, and became a kindergarten and first grade teacher. She gave birth to her only natural child at 18, and refused to put her up for adoption at a time when being a single mother was very stigmatizing.
She married my father, moved to New Mexico, and lived in wartime Los Alamos under primitive conditions. Her willingness to indulge my dad and let him think he was a farmer led to the purchase of 15 acres in the Espanola Valley. She learned to can fruit and vegetables, feed cows and pigs, and to kill and dress chickens. Her life was far from being a gentlewoman farmwife.
I was adopted as a baby, as was my Indigenous sister. We were given the greatest gift two potential orphans can receive, a loving family. We learned to appreciate our adoption, and both of my parents never treated us as less than true children of theirs. As my mother aged, she battled the loss of her love, my dad, cancer, and eventually, Alzheimer's Disease. She did not know me when I visited her the year before she died. I will remember the little things today. Her chocolate cake recipe, her openness to other cultures, her generosity, her love of fruitcake and liver (yecch), her determination in tough situations.....so much.
Happy 100th Birthday Mom, I know you love your grandchildren from wherever you are.
Your son,
Peter
She married my father, moved to New Mexico, and lived in wartime Los Alamos under primitive conditions. Her willingness to indulge my dad and let him think he was a farmer led to the purchase of 15 acres in the Espanola Valley. She learned to can fruit and vegetables, feed cows and pigs, and to kill and dress chickens. Her life was far from being a gentlewoman farmwife.
I was adopted as a baby, as was my Indigenous sister. We were given the greatest gift two potential orphans can receive, a loving family. We learned to appreciate our adoption, and both of my parents never treated us as less than true children of theirs. As my mother aged, she battled the loss of her love, my dad, cancer, and eventually, Alzheimer's Disease. She did not know me when I visited her the year before she died. I will remember the little things today. Her chocolate cake recipe, her openness to other cultures, her generosity, her love of fruitcake and liver (yecch), her determination in tough situations.....so much.
Happy 100th Birthday Mom, I know you love your grandchildren from wherever you are.
Your son,
Peter
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