Tag: tuesdays with maga

feelings

tuesdays with maga

abby mumford

i’ve previously talked about my weekly phone calls with my mom’s mom, maga. they’re usually short and sweet and filled with the weather, updates about family, and discussions about sports.

our calls from the previous two weeks were quiet calls which mirrored the weeks we’d each had. when a third phone call threatened to be as news-less as the previous two, maga set out to have something to report. it was a day with nothing on the calendar other than living it best as her 91 year old self could, so her caregiver took her on a journey to meet a specific lady. this lady is another client of maga’s caregiver and she’s the grandmother of the rock star who wrangled me the passes to meet guster.

maga’s mind has always been younger than her physical self, but even so, it was hilarious to hear her declare the other woman as elderly, seeing as at 91, maga’s no spring chicken either. it reminded me of the way i feel much younger than my 31 years and it’s only when faced with people younger than me that i remember i’m not as young as my brain thinks i am. i’ve often described these young people as babies, which is essentially the same thing as maga describing one of her peers as elderly.

we’re 60 years and hundreds of miles apart, but we’re more similar than just in our genes.

at the end of that phone call, she apologized for not having more fun things to report. WHAT?! i said. you met someone new yesterday! you get out and about every day. you’re kicking butt and taking names. i’m the one who should apologize for not having more gossip, more stories, more interesting things to tell.

but that’s the funny thing about brains and expectations.

you perceive yourself in a particular manner (younger than you actually are) and with a weekly chat, you hope to experience something that’s big enough to make it a conversation. it doesn’t matter if you’re 91 or 31, you still want to entertain and enlighten an otherwise lonely soul.

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feelings

musical chain of events

abby mumford

it began with a question from maga: “have you heard of [a rock band]?”

it continued with brunch with a musician who had an unusual connection to my family and me with his.

it all went down saturday night when nancy, lauren and i showed up at will call at the paramount theater (where guster was performing) and i nervously spoke up.

me: “i think there are supposed to be some tickets waiting for me.”

girl: “sure. what’s your last name?”

me: “mumford.” *starts to spell…*

girl: “oh, yeah, abby.”

me: *turns to N and L with wide eyes*

girl: “here are your 3 tickets and here are 3 after show passes.”

me: *not sure which is falling faster — my jaw or my eyeballs out of head* *giggles* “umm, what? are? those?”

girl: “they’re like backstage passes, except there’s no backstage here. it’s like a meet and greet with the band.”

me: “oh, wow! thank you! i mean, wow, yeah, okay. GREAT!”

basically, the people i know know the people guster knows and i landed in the middle of an unbelievable situation: free tickets + backstage passes to meet the band!! have i mentioned that guster is one of my most favorite bands ever?

so not only did this concert have an unusual beginning upon entering the theater, but it had an unusual beginning when the show began. instead of an opening band, there was an opening comedian, which changed the tone of the evening turning it from a music concert into an event. (an event that, if you ask me, would have been better if it had included just the main attraction.)

*ahem*

fortunately, once the comedian’s time was up and guster took the stage, they did what they do so well — they rocked it out — with humor and charm and that’s why i’ve seen them (at least once) every year since 2003.

they put on a live show like no one else.

and this time i got to tell them so.

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feelings

90 reasons why

abby mumford

maga is my mom’s mom and TODAY SHE TURNS 90. a celebration of epic proportions is clearly due, which is why i find myself surrounded by family in the great state of colorado. tomorrow’s the big party, but today, her big day, this blog is all about her…

*throws confetti*

first, there’s this post, which, yes, i wrote it, but that doesn’t mean i’m not allowed to admit it’s one of my favorites.

second, because we finally got her out from behind the camera (photo circa visit in 2009).

third, because lists are so much fun, here are 90 reasons to celebrate maga. (this is slightly revised and smoothed out from an earlier version i posted at this time last year. except that one only had 89 reasons, because, yeah…) and here we go!

(1) Because she’s lived 90 incredible years with grace, class, and perseverance.

(2) Because she graduated from Wellesley College, earning a degree when many women didn’t.

(3) Because it wasn’t all work and no play during her college years. She knew how to have fun. By gathering up the girls and playing round after round of bridge.

(4) Because she said “I am” when a friend asked who was free to go on a blind date with a boy from MIT.

(5) Because that “I am” turned into an “I do” when the date was with one Joseph Searles Bowman.

(6) Because she moved to the west coast so she could be “closer” to Jobo should he ever get leave from the war. (A leave was apparently quite short and they wanted to maximize their time together. It would have been severely diminished if she had a 3 day train ride from the east coast to the west.)

(7) Because she didn’t know anyone on the west coast. She moved there for love.

(8) Because it’s a brave woman who can follow her heart like that.

(9) Because it’s a strong and true love story that can withstand a war.

(10) Because that love became the foundation of this family.

(11) Because she has expanded her horizons, traveled all over the world, and decided home is the best place to be.

(12) Because she took a house and turned it into a home.

(13) Because she created a family and cherished them completely.

(14) Because her strong opinions, formed from years of studying, traveling, and living, challenged her children and molded them into who they are today.

(15) Because she is fragile and feminine and fabulous.

(16) Because she still gets around town.

(17) Because she always puts on lipstick before leaving the house.

(18) Because she eats dessert with gusto.

(19) Because she has pictures printed into hard copy form at her photo shop down the street which makes the memories tangible.

(20) Because she instilled a love of card games (and competition) in her children, which then got passed down to her grandchildren.

(21) Because she can still whip my butt at cards.

(22) Because she has a hard time letting go of magazines and cards and trinkets and whatever else you can fit into a basement, but what she really doesn’t want to let go of are the memories.

(23) Because she opens the doors to 353 Ivy Street 365 days a year.

(24) Because she makes a decision and sticks to it.

(25) Because she has seen and experienced the world, but loves nothing more than spending time with her family.

(26) Because she puts a smile on her face and makes it through another day.

(27) Because she is grateful for the smallest gestures, like regular phone calls.

(28) Because she really listens to what you are saying.

(29) Because she loves gardenias.

(30) Because she has more courage than she realizes.

(31) Because she has so much to teach us and share with us.

(32) Because she likes to laugh.

(33) Because she still finds creative ways to travel the world (visiting museums and going to the theater) despite the limitations her age now puts on her.

(34) Because she is embracing the detour life has given her.

(35) Because she still writes and sends Christmas cards.

(36) Because she keeps the candy jar full of lemon drops.

(37) Because she gets dressed up when the occasion presents itself.

(38) Because she has a reason to get dolled up, which demonstrates how active her social life is.

(39) Because she gets her hair done every week.

(40) Because she has a computer in her house even though she has no idea how to use it.

(41) Because she has a cell phone even though she has no idea how to use it.

(42) Because she has an address book full of names and she knows how to use it.

(43) Because she is honest about how she is feeling.

(44) Because over the course of a conversation, her voice can go from sad to happy.

(45) Because she is continuing to live, and possibly even thrive, despite the passing of the love of her life.

(46) Because she is an incredible role model.

(47) Because she is stubborn.

(48) Because she has all of these memories to share.

(49) Because she shares them willingly.

(50) Because her mind is as sharp as ever.

(51) Because she loves to take pictures. The old fashioned way. With film.

(52) Because she then takes one more picture for insurance. (As do we all.)

(53) Because she has the best nickname, Maga, which makes people go “What do you call her?” which gives me a reason to go ahead and gush.

(54) Because she is stronger than she even knows.

(55) Because she doesn’t ask much, just that we visit.

(56) Because she would do anything for her family.

(57) Because her heart is full of love for us.

(58) Because her legacy is one of love, laughter, intelligence, and family.

(59) Because she has 12 grandchildren and 5 great grandchildren.

(60) Because of Greg.

(61) Because of Jane.

(62) Because of Jennifer.

(63) Because of Peter.

(64) Because of me.

(65) Because of Heidi.

(66) Because of Emily.

(67) Because of Gib.

(68) Because of Caroline.

(69) Because of Anna.

(70) Because of Jack.

(71) Because of Joey.

(72) Because of Madeleine.

(73) Because of Aaron.

(74) Because of Liam.

(75) Because of Christian.

(76) Because of Kaelyn.

(77) Because she’s happy when we’re happy.

(78) Because she gave us the means, motivation, and preparation to succeed.

(79) Because she sends us a $2 bill on Valentine’s Day.

(80) Because she sends us handwritten cards.

(81) Because she deserves to have the love she sends to us returned to her tenfold.

(82) Because she generously shares access to the Dillon condo, the dude ranch, the fishing spot, and Cherry Hills Country Club.

(83) Because she answers the phone with a “Hello, Abby dear” and an excitement in her voice that can be felt from 2,000 miles away.

(84) Because she teaches me something new every time I talk to her.

(85) Because she is loyal.

(86) Because she always observes the proper etiquette rules and expects nothing less from us.

(87) Because she’s given us roots at 353 Ivy Street, but allowed us all to have wings.

(88) Because she checks the weather where we live so she can keep tabs on us by knowing what type of weather we’re dealing with each day.

(89) Because she is a survivor.

(90) Because while she may not express her emotions verbally, we can feel her affection through the way she listens, the questions she asks, and the tone of her voice.

we love you! happy birthday, maga!

travel

role models

abby mumford

traveling gives you a fresh perspective on yourself, your likes, your dislikes, your neighborhood, your family, your friends, your habits, your life. basically, it will flip your notions upside down. the farther you travel away from home, the knowledge you learn will increase exponentially.*

i was in denver this past weekend. i had the good fortune to be able to swing a last minute visit, which meant i had two and a half days with my mom and maga (my grandmother). amidst the flights and food and christmas cards and conversations and quiet moments, i learned about these people i call my family.

for instance, there is MAGA. she is 89 years and 8 months old. what a trooper she is. she is dealing with the aches, pain, and confusion of getting older, but she manages to put a smile on her face and get out there in the world despite the fact that every morning she wakes up without jobo (my grandfather), she does so with a broken heart. her advanced age means she can’t continue the globe trotting ways of her youth, and so, she brings the globe to her. egypt and india are the only two places she and jobo never visited, so when the king tut exhibit set up shop in the denver art museum, she got tickets for herself and mom and me and we all walked like egyptians.

thanks, maga, for showing me how to retain my sassiness for 89+ years. and for showing me how to bring the world to my doorstep.

for instance, my DAD is a sly guy. he’s not upfront with his emotions, so you have to listen for his declarations of love. i’m glad i now know how to do that. this time, it took the form of him looking up my (ridiculously small windowed) connection in philly. he let me know which gate i’d be arriving at (B14) and which gate i had to get to (C18) in 15 minutes. (i originally had 40 whole minutes, but de-icing a plane + waiting while the pilots shoo a fly out of the cockpit cuts into that.) he gave me specific directions on how to get from one gate to the next (because i am amazingly adept at getting lost). he even emailed and texted me this information because he wasn’t sure which i’d get to first. (side note, i LOVE my smartphone.)

too bad i didn’t turn on my phone until after i landed in boston.

thanks, dad, for giving me a reason to practice letting someone take care of me. i’d kind of forgotten.

for instance, there is my MOM. i had the opportunity to witness my mother as a mother but not while mothering me, which (still with me?) means i was able to objectively watch and appreciate her parenting skills. observing her taking care of her mother was something phenomenal. i felt like i had put on a pair of super-scientific-x-ray-night-vision-high-tech-not-yet-created-but-probably-will-be-soon* goggles and instead of seeing bones or guts or body heat, i could see her patience, her intelligence, her frustration, her sense of humor, her nerves of steel, her love.

growing up, it’s hard to see your mother for all of her sacrifices because, well, you can’t see past yourself. (those teen years are tough on everyone involved.) and even now, it’s still a bit hard to see her objectively because she’s either doing something for me or for one of my siblings and i’m too close to view the situation with any clarity. but denver enlightened me. my mom’s relationship with her mother is (not so) surprisingly a lot like hers and mine. they laugh, bicker, listen, talk, direct, clash, roll their eyes, are grateful for one another. another key fact: they still possess the ability to embarrass each other.

for instance, maga came down wearing a silk scarf tied around her head to keep her ear warm. i thought she looked adorable, however mom couldn’t stop laughing at how maga looked like a babushka. later that night, we were all at the neighbors (maga was sans scarf) when my mom announces to the group, “do you have any grandsons? abby’s available.” yup. thanks, mom.

but you know what? if having them as my role models means i’m going to grow up to be like them, i am ready to grow up.

any day now…..

in the meantime, thank you, mom, for being there for these first (almost, but not quite yet) 30 years. i wouldn’t be who i am today without your guidance, your expectations, your love.

*so says me, the scientific expert.

feelings

june 21, where are you (part deux)

abby mumford

it’s going to be a logistical mad house as we squish people into every nook and cranny of my parents’ house. but it’s sister E’s big day. it’s important we all show up. i called maga to discuss the latest arrangements, which include us potentially sharing a room.

me: i hear we’re going to be roommates.

maga: i know! won’t it be fun? you should know, i don’t snore. do you?

as adorable as that question was, it got me thinking because my dad snores. LOUDLY. it’s kind of unbelievable. and a lot unbearable. i don’t know how my mom does it.

actually, i do.

during one particular session where walls were vibrating and reverberating with his sleep, i asked her how she could handle being so close to something that is louder and more annoying than those vuvuzelas from the 2010 world cup. she smiled and said, “i read an article many years ago that detailed how a wife was dealing with the untimely death of her husband. the last line said something to the effect of  ‘and what i miss most is the sound of him snoring.’ i haven’t been bothered by his snoring since.”

it’s these conversations with maga that start out at one place (figuring out which posters we’ll hang up for the week, what PJs we’ll wear) and end up in another spot (a lesson on love) that make me grateful i have time to get to know her. and through her, my mother. and through my mother, me.

and no, i don’t snore.