Ada Patricia Bladh

Ada Patricia Bladh

Patty, me in stroller, and my mom

I started to write about my Mother’s life with the title Mother’s Day, and then found that it was really freakin’ depressing.  So I’ve backed up and I’m going to write about my time with my mother.  It may look like it’s going to be sad and depressing too, but hang in there…

I really loved my mother.  I lost her when I was fifteen years old, so my viewpoint back then was much different than it is today.  Teenagers tend to be dramatic, but when I lost her, I thought I really lost my whole world, and I went through many different phases of dealing with her death, a suicide, for the next fifteen or so years.

That being said, today I reflect on my childhood with my mother.  She was the bomb!  The love and comfort she always gave to me was such that I felt truly taken care of and that I was Okay.  You know what I mean?  I never second guessed my worth around her.

My mother loved to laugh.  I always looked forward to her coming home with a certain sparkle in her eye as she would tell me a story about what had happened that day at work.  And I would always asked, “What did you do?” And she would always say, “I just laughed.”  which always made me laugh.

I remember when she worked at Henshaw’s Department store in Whittier that she would bring home a new Barbie outfit almost every single week.  My Barbies were amongst the best dressed in town.  While working there, she worked in gift wrapping (she would bestow her knowledge of these skills to me) and then later in the Hickory Farms department.  We’d get one of those big ol’ giant beef sticks from time to time and she’d bring home a box of these nasty little squares of what I can only describe as congealed fruit with no sugar, and they appeared to be rolled in flour or something.  To a kid, that’s yuck.  As an adult, it’s a treat.  Regardless, it was always fun to run around the department store pretending I lived there.

My mother loved the sun.  She was Swedish, so she was extremely white, but if she put the effort in, she tanned fairly well.  We spent many hours at the beach and poolside as I ran amok while she sunbathed.  Her tanning efforts were usually short-lived however as her tan would dry up and she would soon be peeling.  I use to spend what seemed like hours sitting on her butt while peeling these long strands of dead skin off her back.  It was awesome!!

I remember I was the one who gave my mother the Mumps, just in time for Christmas one year.  I always felt bad about that.

My mother’s cooking skills were superb to someone who does not know any better.   Ninety percent of my vegetables came from a can.  She tended to overcook things, but to this day, I love the end-cut of roasts, the drier the better.  I’m sorry to say the day she attempted to make Chili Rellano, I may have thrown them up, which is probably why I can not stand any sort of crustiness when it comes to my eggs today.  She did however make amazing lemon meringue pies, and cheese enchiladas.

It was shortly after she passed away and my father came to live with me that I realized my mother never taught me how to cook.  She had not bestowed her knowledge of these skills to me which may or may not have been a good thing, but it created a bit of a problem.  That first Christmas without her was already incredibly hard, but we had to eat, right?  But without “said skills” our dinner options were limited.  After a short discussion, it was decided that I would attempt to recreate what I hope I remembered seeing when I would watch her make those cheese enchiladas.  Nailed it!!!  That’s one thing I took from her for sure and it made it a tad bit comforting as we ate enchiladas for Christmas dinner that year.

My mother LOVED to play cards.  We would literally spend hours playing Gin, Rummy, Crazy Eights or War.  She never tired of it!

My mother refused to drive the freeway.  Do you have any idea how long it takes to get home from Los Angeles via ALL side streets?  She was a bit nuts, but she let me take control of the radio.

My mother riding a bicycle was funny shit.

Every now and then my mother would roll up the sleeves and would dive into my room only to resurface when it was nice and clean.  She did this at least three times.  That was awesome!

My mother loved Credence Clearwater Revival.  I still don’t get it.   She also use to sing Benny and the Jets to her dog Benny which always got the dog hollering with her.  Drove me crazy!!

It took me almost five years to not look at the clock at 4 o’clock waiting for her call to check in with me before she got off work at 5 o’clock.  It took me almost ten years to stop looking for her face in a crowd. And to this day I still ache for her touch.

Happy Mother’s Day Mom.