Honoring All Mothers
In honor of my mother, I am running some excerpts from my memoir, Stepping Forth, An American Girl Coming of Age in the '60s, which chronicles seven years of my early life in Wisconsin, where I grew up. I've focused on events that involved my mother. The book is in print ($15) or available as an eBook at Amazon Kindle.
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I wish to take this opportunity to honor the other mother figures in my life: my daughters-in-law: Patricia Ulrich (mom to Vorian), Mandy (wife to Marty and mom to Natalya and Gianna), and Woohye Jang (wife to son Scott).
Memorable Moments in Honor of My Mom
by Ann Ulrich Miller
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My mom's name was Marion Schumacher. she was born Nov. 9, 1920, and passed away in 2014 after suffering with Alzheimer's. she was petite and a generous woman, compassionate, and had a mind of her own. My siblings and I miss her very much. Here are three excerpts from my memoir.
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Mom's Gallbladder
On Tuesday, Oct. 4, 1966, I came home from school and saw that I'd received a letter in the mail from my cousin Melissa in California. after I finished reading the letter, my mother sauntered slowly into the living room, clutching her stomach with her hand.
"Ann ..." she pleaded in a weak voice.
My mouth dropped open. Her face was pale and she was obviously in pain. "Mom, what's wrong?"
"Will you call your father?"
I grew alarmed and asked again, "What's the matter?"
"I think I'm having some kind of an attack," she told me in a strained voice. She explained how she had been suffering for hours and was unable to get too far from the bathroom.
My heart began to race. Making myself remain calm, I dialed the number of my dad's work place. When I got him on the line, I told him that Mom was sick and needed him to come home right away.
My father wasted no time. He was home in less than fifteen minutes, got my mother into the car, and drove her to Methodist Hospital uptown. I have never forgotten how pale her face was and how worried all of us were.
Jon (my brother), Barb and Geoff arrived the next day from Stevens Point, along with Lester (their dog). Jon had to return to Stevens Point the next day to work, but Barb and the baby stayed for as long as my mother was in the hospital, which turned out to be two weeks.
My mother had surgery today. her gallbladder, with two gallstones, and her appendix were removed. I miss her a lot,
even if things actually do get done around here now with Barb staying.
Poor Barb. I feel sorry for her. She has to cope with our laundry, meals, dishes, housework, cleaning, Laurie's and
Alice's complaining, as well as Lester and Geoff.
To get away from it all, Barb went to visit her father this evening. I did all the dishes for her, so she should be relieved
when her tired self gets home again to a crying baby and a dependent family.
--- Friday, October 7, 1966
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When Mom came home from the hospital on Monday, Oct. 17, she still looked pale and was weak but cheerful. She had dozens of get-well cards waiting for her.
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Mom's Hurt Feelings
On New Year's Day in 1969, my mother saw an ad in the newspaper for Gone with the Wind, which was playing at the Cinema Theater in Madison. She thought of me, since I had started reading the book for English class, and asked if I'd like to go see it with her.
Of course I wanted to see it. "Can I ask a friend to come along?"
"That would be okay," said my mother. I knew Debbie had already seen the film, so I called up Kathy, but she wasn't home. But I told Mrs. Waraczynski about the movie.
A little while later, I got a call from Jan Schnetzler, a classmate, who had tried to get hold of Kathy for the same reason. "Since you're planning to go," Jan told me, "wouldn't it be a great idea for us all to go together?" She explained that her mother also wanted to see it and would take us.
After I hung up with Jan, I told my mother about the change of plans.
"why don't you want to go with your family?" My mom was obviously not pleased. In fact, she was hurt that I preferred to go with my friends rather than her, my sisters and Paul. "It's not very nice of you to turn down the first invitation ... and shun your family ... just so you can see the movie with your friends!"
"But, Mom ..."
"And especially since it was my idea to go in the first place!"
Well, I really felt like an ass then. But I had already told Jan that I would go, and I didn't feel like calling her back. My mom's feelings were hurt and my sisters talked to my mom behind my back, cutting me down and making sure I could hear them.
All afternoon, while watching the movie -- which was four hours long -- I felt guilty. My family came separately to the theater and sat down a couple of rows ahead of us.
I invited them to sit in our row, figuring Mrs. Schnetzler probably would have enjoyed my mother's company -- but they refused.
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Terror in the Basement
My determination to become a veterinarian was challenged one February afternoon in 1969. I was in my bedroom in the basement of our home when my mother called down to me from the top of the stairs.
"Ann, you've got half an hour!"
"Okay, Mom."
I sat in bed, propped against my pillows, holding Margaret Mitchell's book, Gone With the Wind. We were studying the book in English class, and even though I had already seen the movie with my friends, I was really into the novel and could hardly put it down.
That evening Mom and I were going to the mother-daughter banquet at our church, as we did every year, but I still had some time before I had to get ready.
Rosie, our ginger tabby cat, wandered around the basement, nosing through this and that. She mewed and purred like she usually did. I paid little attention as she wandered into corners and poked around my things. I loved having Rosie with me.
The dear little cat finally climbed up onto the bed and settled down, her throat gently vibrating with contentment. I reached my hand out to stroke between her ears.
Just as I was reading the part in the book about Scarlett's sister -- all upset because Scarlett had stolen her beau -- a weird sound reached my ears.
I jolted upright when Rosie began gagging. I dropped the book and jumped out of the bed. Rosie began retching and vomiting. I did not want it to happen on my bed!
"No! Rosie, get off!" I cried. I managed to push her to the floor. I wanted to get her off of the rug and onto the concrete, where it would be easier to clean up the mess.
But it was too late. Rosie vomited a mass of brown liquid onto the floor. In it was a pile of wriggling tapeworms. I was horror stricken. One of the worms was moving really fast, and its ugly head swayed back and forth up in the air, reminding me of a cobra. For a frozen moment, I could not move a muscle.
Then, still in shock, I fell back onto my bed, paralyzed. I tried to come to my senses about what to do. Horrors! I had never been so panic-stricken in my entire life.
A sound escaped from my throat. It was an unintelligible cry, followed immediately by rapid, swelling breathers of air mixed in with heavy sobs. I cried hard, each blast getting louder with the hope that somebody upstairs might hear me and come to my rescue. I did not know how to escape from this living nightmare.
I must have sobbed for a full two minutes before I heard my sister Alice's voice at the top of the stairs. I heard her telling someone upstairs, "What's Ann laughing at?"
Laughing? Oh my God!
Alice came down the steps and saw me, then turned around to retreat. She probably thought it was something personal that I didn't want her to hear. But I called out her name. "Wait! Alice! It's alive! Get help!"
She ran the rest of the way upstairs to get our mother. The next thing I knew, Mom, Paul, Laurie and Alice all stood around in my room. They backed away from the abominable sight of the pile of vomit with its dreadful worms.
"Ann! Stop crying!" screamed my mother. "Tell us what happened!"
I'm sure my siblings were thinking, what the hell?
"she said something's alive," explained Alice.
I then told them -- in between sobs -- what Rosie had done. I felt so very foolish -- like a child. One of my pillows, which I had held up to my face so that I didn't have to look at the mess on the floor, was stained with black mascara.
I don't know what my brother and sisters did, but my mother cleaned up the mess. I'm sure the worms were dead by then. My mom did say that, yes, there were worms in the puddle.
It took me another ten minutes to dry up. I was so traumatized by the experience. Nothing frightened me more than worms, especially parasites or maggots.
"Now tell me this!" stormed my mother. "How can you think that you still want to be a veterinarian when something like this happens? Do you really think this is the career for you?"
I didn't know what to say. I refused to acknowledge that this event affected my future plans. I was still convinced I wanted to be a vet. I wanted it now more than ever ... even after this nightmare.
And my mother did understand a little. After all, she had her phobia about mice and rodents.
Ever since I had been a little girl, worms and snakes had terrified me. My brothers threw them at me and loved to see me scream. I would freak out if one of the nasty creatures landed on me. and then I would run to my mother, who wasn't impressed.
One rainy morning in second grade, I was a whole hour late for school when I had to walk. I was so afraid of the worms on the road that I just stood there, frozen in horror, on the corner of Healy Lane and Sioux Trail, crying. Finally, a neighbor woman drove by, stopped, and took me to school.
I used to have unbearable nightmares about worms. I would wake up in the middle of the night, quivering and half out of my wits. Then I'd see, in the dark, the wrinkles in my blanket and pillowcase, and somehow they'd all turn into worms! Worms crawling all over me. I would scream and my mother would come in to comfort me.
That afternoon was a shock to me. Those fears I had carried with me through childhood let loose when Rosie expelled the tape worms on my bedroom floor. Yet I was too stubborn to face the truth. I believe something was trying to tell me about my life's path. I could have saved myself a lot of grief had I listened.
Becoming a veterinarian might once have been my ambition, but eventually my dream of being a writer prevailed. Many years later, after I was married with young children, I would write a short story and sell it to a magazine. The title: Worms.
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You can order Stepping Forth at https://www.createspace.com/4966102 or get an autographed copy from me for $15 (Earth Star, P.O. Box 1213, Cedaredge, CO 81413). Also available as an eBook on Amazon Kindle at https.//www.amazon.com/dp/B00VURGBW8 for just $2.99.