Happy Birthday.

On January 7, 1926, my mother Hazel Emma Zorn made her appearance.  She was the sixth child and third daughter of Emma and Gotthilf ( aka George) Zorn.  By the time she was born, I believe her three older brothers had already died of various illnesses.    I would be willing to bet she was a surprise, as my grandmother was almost 40 when she was born.

Her father would die before she was three, just days before the Great Depression plunged the nation into poverty  Her widowed mother did the best she could, raising three skinny girls, with what help one of my grandfather's brothers could provide.  My grandfather was a milkman for Borden.  Had he not been killed in a car accident, the family would probably have been just fine.

I often wonder if I would be here, had that not happened.  My mother might have been able to finish high school, like her cousins did, maybe become a history teacher, as was her dream.  Instead, she had to drop out at 16, get a horrible job at a printer's and followed the path the the St George Hotel on July 23, 1949, where a smart-ass named Bob Myers pushed her into the pool.  She couldn't swim.  He pulled her out and the rest is my history.

My mother developed Alzheimer's  and we watched in horror as that terrible disease stole our brilliant beautiful mother, one piece at a time.  Cruel, vicious thing.  I miss her, but am glad she is not her, living in half herself.   I often wish she had been able to meet her great-grandsons.  Bob, in particular would have delighted her with his mixture of sweetness and sass.  He is my father all over again.

There's a line from a Bob Dylan song, "you're gonna make me lonesome when you go" ;

"I'll see you in the sky above, in the tall grass, in the ones I love, You're gonna make me lonesome when you go"

I think of her when I hear those lines. 

I miss you Mom.   Happy Birthday!