Sept. 14, 1940
Because I can’t wrap my arms around her and tell her that I love her, I dedicate this day to my Mom, Bernice Hammar Simon.
August 28, 1918 – January 17. 1997. Rest in peace Mom.
15 Things I remember about Mom (I could do a hundred more)
1. Seeing my Dad’s face when he came home from work and found my brothers, me and MOM, all lined up in the hall doing a head stand.
2. Mom riding my brother’s mini-bike right up a pine tree – and being madder than a hornet that nobody told her the gas was on the grips of the handlebars.
3. Mom sticking her head, full or rollers in the oven to dry her hair.
4. Me, sitting on the red stool,at the red Formica counter-top, in the red plaid kitchen, watching my mother cook, dressed in her favorite red sweatshirt, shorts and saddle shoes.
5. Hearing my Dad tell me stories about Mom riding in open cockpit planes when she was a teenager.
6. Her love for her 1966 Mustang, red, of course. And how she liked to drive fast.
7. Mom dressing up like a beatnik , all in black with me and my girlfriends when I was a teenager and driving us around looking for boys. (because I was too young to drive)
8. Her laughing until she cried or peed her pants (or both.)
9. Going to Mother-Daughter luncheons at the Swedish church with Mom and Grandma Hammar the week of Mother’s Day.
10. Her meatloaf – the best ever… and her baked macaroni and cheese OR letting me have spaghetti and pumpkin pie for my birthday.
11. Hearing her tell the story of when she sewed my sister-in-law’s bridal nightgowns together and let Pat’s sister take the blame for many years.
12. Her face when she was with the grand-kids – she loved them so much.
13. Her sitting on the floor playing with the grand-kids – or doing board games on the card table.
14. Her love for family genealogy, and her bumper sticker that read “I collect dead relatives.”
15. Her holding me when I had a broken heart / Me holding her when she struggled to breath.
Okay, so I squeezed a couple favorites together because I could not choose. So shoot me. Mom was a 5 ft. 2 ” fireball most of her life. But she was a smoker, and spent the last decade of her life gasping for air with only one quarter of one lung. She coughed until she turned blue, and each time we wondered if it would be her last breath. But it wasn’t until she fell and broke her hip, that she never recovered. Her last words , spoken before going into surgery, after the doctor asked her if she had dentures out, panties off, etc. “Yep, I’m as free as a bird.” Fly free Mom, we miss you.
standing Dick, Gene, Dad, Don
This was just a few of the candles. She had a candle for every member of the family. The cake was blazing with candles. Each candle had a different tag. “World’s Greatest ….. ” My son Dru’s , who was 15 said “Andy – World’s Great Break Dancer”. She had something special for everyone. That is just the kind of person she was.
Of course, she was in a red bathrobe.
Writing Under Fire 