Our Elizabeth

I wish I could create a vivid, living picture of my Mom. She is a cross between Princess Grace and Gracie Allen. The Serene Highness, who may lose her cool, and say something completely outrageous. I love Mom's tales of newlywed life with my Dad. Their first apartment was on Fourth Avenue, a block from Dad's store. It was a railroad flat, with plenty of large roaches. The floors were wooden, with a pattern carpet in the living room. Mom always waited for the roaches to crawl on the carpet, then she would squash them with one of his or her college text books. It was Dad's job to dispose of the corpses.

A few years later, when we lived on 91st Street, Mom had one of her misadventures. She had put us 4 girls to bed, then went down to the basement to do laundry, while Dad fell asleep on the living room sofa. I guess the drier was running a bit slow, so Mom got the idea of laying on the basement floor, and taking the drier pipe off, so she could remove extra lint. Naturally, her arm became stuck in the pipe, and there Mom was, calling for help, while fretting that one of the water bugs would come a crawling. ( There were two in our cellar, and my Dad named them 'Felix' and "Francine"). Anyhow, Dad finally heard her cries, came down but couldn't get her arm out--so he called our next door neighbor, Mr. Navarro, who suggested they squirt Mom's arm with baby oil--which made it supple enough to move.

When we were teenagers, we took a winter break vacation down in St. Maarten. It was 1973, and the island was still fairly undeveloped. At the motel, unit, Mom had the bright idea of putting her evening dress, a black and white shift dress, on the deck railing, to air it. So, she begins to get dressed, and realized that she was not alone--a gekko lizard had crawled into the dress and perched on her arm. Meanwhile, my younger Sister, Cathy, and I, had dressed, and came into the room to get soda. Mom screams out "Jesus, Mary and Joseph; it's on me, get it off' while we girls are doubled over, helplessly laughing. My Dad shot us a look, and then bit the side of his mouth so he wouldn't laugh--just repeated in a soothing tone 'it's all right". As he caught the lizard and headed to the outdoor deck, Mom called out 'Don't hurt it, Bob. Just get rid of it".

Mom was, and is amazing, and I love her very much.