3/9/19
as I sat here to write, with my coffee....
I looked down and saw my mom's legs.
yes...
never thought it would happen, but you do turn into your parents at some point
My parents passed too soon for me. I wasn't even a full functioning adult when they died.
My mom and I had the normal ill functioning teen mother relationship.
I left the house as soon as I could and lived a life she fretted over.
In a time before cell phones I would often receive 5 minute long voicemails on the recording machine,
"Melissa, this is your mother....where are you? Please call...at least once a month"
She taught me independence, so why did I need to call?
She left home to perform at 16...acrobats, circus, tap dance....
Her life was identical to the life I lived, although I did not dance.
I just lived. Moving from place to place...
She worked for everyone from the circus to the mafia in Chicago and had the best stories.
Stories I listened to, but did not appreciate until she was gone.
Often the situation with mom and daughter relationships.
My Mom's glossy for her auditions. She was 16 here.
known for tap-dancing, and acrobatics.
She always like to point out " I never EVER took my clothes off...I danced the slots in-between the burlesque....I was NEVER a stripper!"
She danced on a huge ball, or piano....with fans...aka Fan Dancer.
She graced many covers of Chicago's entertainment papers.
She met my Dad, who was 22 years older, when he was a visiting business man and she was working.
Story has it that he courted her for over 2 years...never asking for anything except conversation.
They were both married. My dad was married to Ruth Kellogg ( of the known Kellogg company), who was mentally ill. My dad stayed married to Ruth until she shot herself....there is a much larger story around that...but on a side note, my mom took over care for Ruth's youngest after that and continued to care for her own 5 kids. I have been told that my mom had no factor in the fact that Ruth killed herself, she had tried multiple times before....but they kept most of these stories quiet...it was shameful.
My mom was married to a man who was no longer present and also had committed himself to a hospital for mental health. I am guessing this was a way to escape issues of life in the 60's.
My mom always was very vocal about making sure you were strong and able to figure out how to care for self and whatever baggage ie; kids, you were dragging around with you.
So, I am sure when my dad came int my mom's life, being a millionaire, older, handsome, and not very demanding...she stepped up.
She had kids and worked her ass off, mom during the day, performer at night, but I can see how traveling to NY on the weekends and Rome on the other days and being able to live in a big house with a pool was enticing.
She said she loved my dad...and continued until he died of complications of Alzheimer's. She cared for him until the day he died....just as he cared for her, when she needed it.
They loved each other.
Their situation at first was not ideal.
but it worked out in the long run...
Mom in Central Park...They stayed in NY quite often...My dad loved to take pictures,
especially of Mom.
I still have that Fox Stole sad bought her...
her name is embroidered on the inside, custom.
Here's one, he was still taking pictures of her 20 years later.
"Gloria at Work"
(those are my legs, too)
My mom left many diaries of her life. She was apparently a bit of a writer too.
They are hard to read because they are sometimes a bit racy and a bit too much info for me...
But the stories of her and my dad are amazing.
It was like a fairy tale.
Pretty Woman type story.
I came along as the accident...
They never intended for me, but ...
Shit happens.
All this said, I refer back to the fact that sometimes we are more of our parents than we want to believe. I was lucky to have such a rare breed for a mother. I was lucky she passed her legs down to me. I was lucky she taught me to be strong.
Would she be proud? Maybe now.
Would she encourage me to figure out my shit right now?
Yes.
What would she say?
Go with your heart...
Go with love, because life is short.
Wear the pretty dress, tell people you love them,
be racy, be sassy, dance when you can, and don't be afraid to make mistakes.
But always remember to be strong, independent and go with love...
It's never easy or convenient
But just as her story , and my dad's, it was worth it.
They lived an amazing life together of dancing, travel, Playboy Mansion, private jets, and
love....
love....
xoxox,
Write ya later,
and thanks mom...
for the fairly good genes
m
