A Weeping Willow Tree
I don’t know if I am a stereotypical Baby Boomer or not, but I did grow up in the ’60’s and ’70’s. I rode a Schwinn bike and watched the Brady Bunch at 7:00 every Friday evening. Love American Style came on at 9:00, but that was off limits unless my parents happened to be gone. My sister failed to monitor what racy shows I might be viewing on one of the three network channels available to us during those pre-cable years.
When I was growing up, my mother did not work outside the home. On cold days she made sure we had enough clothes on to keep an entire army warm in Siberia. She welcomed us home every afternoon after school and prepared home cooked meals every evening. It never occurred to me that she could have made other choices. She could have had a very interesting career. But she made the choice to stay home with us.
I was reminded of that fact today as I read the obituary of a long time friend’s mother. Colleen and I grew up together. We built entire civilizations in the massive sandbox tucked underneath the weeping willow tree in her backyard. We put on pads and helmets and played tackle football together in my backyard. There was a pond in both of our yards that would freeze over during the winter months. There was ample time to play hockey and skate. Colleen claims that she kicked me with her skates, but I don’t think that ever happened. Although I am quite sure there were times that I deserved to have those skates thrust right into my knee!
Colleen’s mother was also a stay at home mom during our formative years. She was raising five children that were fairly close in age. I was in and out of her house constantly. She was in mine as well. Our mothers took turns supervising us. Although I don’t think we needed much oversight. There were always a a game of some kind to play. Sue was Colleen’s mom. She was Mrs. Burke to me. In my mind, Mrs. Burke did what she was supposed to do. She took care of the kids. I did not know until I read her obituary today that there was much more to her life.
Colleen’s mom held a BA in psychology and a paralegal degree as well. I was taken back for some odd reason today. It occurred to me that we don’t realize when we are kids that we are around people who have done things in life other than just be our friend’s mother! I suppose there must have been a lot of stay at home moms back in the day who were highly educated. My mother earned her bachelor’s degree in French from Florida State University.
I am grateful today for the moms in our old neighborhood. I didn’t realize how much they had to offer us. We were too busy running out to play hockey or football…. I think we failed to fully appreciate our moms who were making the sacrifice to stay home and wash our dirty football jersies and sweaty baseball socks.
Colleen is a sucessful juvenile probation officer today. She is trying to prevent kids from totally destroying their lives before they turn 18. I think she is having quite a bit of success actually.
I don’t know if she is a stereotypical Baby Boomer or not. But I do know that she grew up watching The Brady Bunch at 7:00 on Friday evenings. And her mother made sure that she had enough clothes on to keep a Siberian army warm on cold days… Our moms were far from perfect, but in their own way they prepared us for the world we now face everyday.
My friendship with Colleen has entered a new phase. We now share more than just memories of building with Tonka trucks in the sandbox under the weeping willow tree. We have the shared experience of losing our mothers. There is a new sense of commonality that is hard to explain.
I have a vision of the weeping willow tree in my mind tonight….On the eve of Mrs. Burke’s funeral, it seems to be a fitting image.
One thought on “A Weeping Willow Tree”
I grew up in the same town. My mom was home when we got home, sometimes with brownies waiting. We had Tonkas, and rather than a weeping willow tree, a pussy willow tree. I'm not sure if I ever met Colleen's mom, but I am sorry for her loss.