[written for the Longy Concert and Reception October 23, 2005]
When my Dad passed away in 2004, he gifted a sum of money to the Longy School to establish a scholarship in Mom’s name. He also donated to Longy her Pleyel piano, which came from Paris, and a collection of string instruments made by Henry Brown, Mom’s father. A year later, the school hosted a memorial concert for Mom and invited our whole family. Each of the 3 of us gave a brief appreciation. Mine is below, reflecting on the many facets of her life in addition to her music.
My Mom was many things to many people but to me she was my Mom. Of course it wasn’t until I became a mother myself, ending all the rebellion of my adolescent years, that I appreciated much of what that meant. But even when I was growing up, I knew that my Mom was an unusual and talented person.
Her family came first but that gave her the opportunity to find interesting creative outlets. Besides continuing with her own musical interests and trying to share them with her children (and being dismayed at times, I’m sure, when they seemed to take more readily to the Beatles than to Bach), in addition to music of all kinds, our home was full of other pursuits. There was a telescope in the front hall closet and on dark nights in the backyard, I caught glimpses of the rings of Saturn, the moons of Jupiter, double stars, and distant galaxies. For a couple of years the refrigerator was full of jars growing beautiful colored crystals from chemical solutions. For long stretches of time, there was a full-sized floor loom set up in the living room from which came multi-colored rugs and the material for re-upholstering the couch. At Christmas time we made Santas out of yarn and ornaments for the tree. And she knit mittens that were really animal puppets complete with tongues and tails!
Mom was a wonderful cook and loved to try new dishes and have dinner parties. She had little use for TV, but she did watch Julia Childs religiously. We had bouillabaisse and strawberry tarts for birthday treats, and even a Buche de Noel for Christmas. We also learned to appreciate stir frys and curries and seafood of all kinds, the specialty of the house being an entire stuffed striped bass, for which she had negotiated with the local fish market to leave the head still attached! For special occasions, Dad orchestrated baked stuffed lobster. And finally, there was crab bisque from Cross Creek, accompanied by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings description of “angels singing in the distance”.
There were so many plants in the house that I once lost my pet chameleon for months before it was discovered clinging to a plant in the living room. And every season except winter was devoted to working in the yard. Together, my parents planned and planted trees and shrubs of many different kinds and springtime, when everything was in bloom, was wonderful. There were flower beds and rock gardens, a vegetable patch (which my Dad tended), and even a Japanese garden with a weeping cherry tree and a red-leafed maple. Mom loved birds and her Peterson guide and binoculars were always on hand to catch the many kinds passing through the yard and visiting the feeders. For may years, she had a yellow canary in the kitchen which sang cheerfully on sunny mornings. In later years, some of her carefully-nurtured Bonsai trees were recognized at local shows.
Mom had a real spirit of adventure. She took up sailing with my Dad and spent many summer afternoons and evenings crewing for my Dad on the Duchess in all kinds of weather. To keep up with us, she took up downhill skiing and enjoyed weekends on the slopes as much as we did. Besides revisiting Paris, she also cruised the fjords of Norway, and the Greek islands, and visited Bonsai gardens in Japan with my Dad.
Most of all, Mom enjoyed meeting and getting to know people from all walks of life. She kept in touch with musical colleagues and teachers, her students, plant people, neighbors, and many distant relatives she contacted in her genealogical research.
Mom, we are all grateful for the many ways you have touched and influenced our lives. When I cook a special meal, coax my houseplants to bloom, take up needlework on quiet evenings, admire the snow settling on trees outside, and return with increasing appreciation to the music I heard growing up, I am following in paths that you have pointed out. From you, Mom, I have gained a rich sense of where I came from, reaching back to her personal experience growing up in Paris, and the stories and family history uncovered in genealogical research, I have been encouraged to be curious, to try new things, and to reach out to the people around me. I miss your presence in my life, but you will always live in my heart.
