Some Recollections of
VSNE, by NEP
Okay, Celeste. I have
sat down today and written the thoughts that have come to me about my mom. I’m sure I will have others, and obviously
you can’t use them all. The picture
painted here will give you a feel for the experience having Vella for a mom was
for me. Pick and choose anything that
might be useful to you. If there is
anything specific that you would like, please let me know!
Clearly, it was alarming to Mom that one could ever be indifferent
to the injustice or suffering of other people, especially those rejected by or
invisible to society. This is where I
first recognized her passion for people.
To me she usually appeared self contained and absorbed in her work but
this is where her caring for others took shape.
I remember one time when a stranger on a motorcycle crashed into a tree
on our front lawn. He broke his
leg. It surprised me to see mom rushing out
to bring him blankets and lemonade while we waited for the ambulance to come.
Mom also had an almost religious observance to daily structure
and schedule, and I think success in her day was measured by productivity and
progress toward important goals. For
her, self mastery equaled success, and self discipline was constantly being
cultivated in us all. On the other hand,
she also seemed to respect natural consequences and allowed her children to
make their own choices, even if those choices might reflect on what others
thought of her. For example, apparently
she allowed me to go to school every day of third grade without combing my hair,
which was a silent concern for her. I
didn’t realize it needed combing ;) She
also that same year allowed me to quit taking piano lessons simple because I
stated how stressful it was to perform in recitals. I was eight years old. She offered no rebuttal. I have to admit that I was surprised at her
easy acceptance of my choice, which I always regretted.
Another image in my mind had to do with what I considered
mercy on her part. I have already
mentioned her strict adherence to her schedule, especially when she was in
school pursuing her master’s and doctorate degrees. She had an ambitious volume of work cut out
for herself each day, and advised us of her schedule by putting a plastic clock
on her bedroom door stating until which hour she would be unavailable. I, having come home from school and having no
one to talk to on several occasions would enter her room uninvited and plop
myself on the bed. She would always close
her book and cap her marking pen, ignoring the sign on the door, and listen to
me as long as I wanted to share.
Another touching display of mercy came when I was a senior
in college I had worked for days on an important final paper on our family’s
old computer. The night before it was
due somehow the whole document was lost and I was dismayed. Mom surprised me very much by offering to sit
and retype it for me (she was an extremely swift typist) while I recalled the
important points to be discussed. I had
given up, but she helped me succeed. I’m
sure her helping me organize and rewrite my thoughts contributed to the fact
that it was the best paper I ever turned in J.
Mom’s health was delicate, due to her size, stress level and poor circulation. When I was 12 (1972)
Mom was hospitalized with pulmonary embolisms.
She lost a lot of weight and it took her many weeks for her to
recover. She also suffered from phlebitis
in her legs quite often. In an effort
to prevent against these when she was studying, she would set the timer for 45
minutes and then run up and down the stairs a few times before continuing her
work.
Mom was pro human rights and anti killing. She cried when
JFK was assassinated and in the late 1960’s became a vegetarian. She loved living in the Phoenix sun and away
from the omnipresent religious influences in Utah. She took us often to the YWCA to swim while
she took yoga classes. She liked to
meditate and got rid of sore throats doing “the lion”, with mouths wide open to
the sun. She also took over-the-counter
medication as little as possible, preferring deal with headaches and such in
more natural ways.
Mom got a degree in French, just like her parents, and she
like French cooking. She would put
“cooking” wine in many of her recipes, like cheese fondue and black bean soup
and tried to quiet our objections by telling us the alcohol would all cook
out. She also made marinara sauces with
cinnamon and other spices and substituted zucchini for the ground meat in our
food.
In my early childhood mom liked to entertain and was known
for being a wonderful cook. She did not
enjoy much the constant efforts of mothering young children and would find some
measure of fulfillment in painting and remodeling as well as learning to play
Bach’s fugues (sp)on the church’s organ.
I think she looked forward to the day when our constant needs would not
consume her. J
We took many car trips in my youth all over the western
United Stated. We spent countless hours
in the back of the station wagon going to Indian ruins, ghost towns and
National parks. Mom washed our hair in
the kitchen sink once a week and put lemon juice or vinegar in as a rinse to
help capture the natural sunshine. She
washed her own hair weekly as well and would sit under the hair dryer for an
hour to lock in her curls.
Mom’s favorite color was yellow and she loved wild yellow
roses, at least so she said. She loved
visiting Mexico and decorating in the Spanish way. We had a complicated Saturday’s work schedule
which was regulated by a point system.
Each job was checked and inevitably there was follow up work to be
done. (Especially for meJ)She taught us very
early to be responsible and I think it has served us well all our lives.
I love my mom! I
think she has always done the very best of her ability to adhere to virtues that were
important to her. And I appreciate that
she has accepted me, a very different soul, for what I am and has loved me in
her own way. I especially love the
tenderness and humility she has developed in this last decade and wish to
continue to help her feel the love of God that is all around her.
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