Alice Helen (Stiller) Andrews. She was my mom. She could be soft, insightful and caring. She could be tough. She was a survivor.
My sister Addie asked why I hadn't written about Alice. Alice has been on my "short list" of intended subjects. A recent discussion with Addie brought back memories of the difficult time when my Dad died unexpectedly at age 37 with a family including 4 children. I was the oldest at 17 and a senior in high school. Jack was 14 going on 21. Addie was 13 and Jerry Lee (he never liked having the "Lee" in his name) was 11.
Alice herself was 35 years old. She had a job at Plymouth Industrial Products located at the end of Mill Street and ran equipment making black plastic injection molded products. It was hot around the equipment and "black". If you've ever been around black powdery high density polyethylene or propolene, it is insidious. It permeates every pore in the body. She hated the job but she knew the family needed the income. She always dreamed of moving into an office position with opportunity for personal growth and obviously more money. It remained a dream!
When my dad died the family had nothing. I mean nothing. No life insurance policy. No savings. The biggest asset the family had was the 1956 two-tone, black and white Dodge automobile. It became an asset because the loan was automatically paid when he died. There was not enought money to bury Bucky.
So put yourself in Alice's place. Four kids. No money. A job she hated. Alone! Her biggest support group was her mother-in-law who owned the City Club where we lived and her mother, dad, and younger brother "Big Jerry". Her Mom and Dad lived in northern Wisconsin near Cable, Wisconsin so they were not really active in her life.
Funerals are an interesting phenomena. Immediately after Bucky died, we were surrounded by family, friends and acquaintances. There is a swirl of activity. And then? And then, there is empty, cold reality. All the friends that you expect to stop by to visit never really did. The reality that you have to figure out how to survive sets in.
Alice never shared any self doubts. She never waivered as she went about supporting her family. Her dislike for the plastic molding job got greater because she didn't feel she had any options. Her dreams of a different job faded.
When you talk of successful characters in life, Alice is at the top of my list. She raised four children without help and they all were successful in their own ways. She found a way. We found a way.
As Alice was placed in this impossible position of being mom and provider, she toughened. My children do not know her as a "warm fuzzy" but more as an interesting character. She became a champion of the underdog. She silently rooted for my daughter Debbie, Valerie Klokow, Johnny Andrews and somehow my brother Jack always made that list. And there were more. It didn't mean she loved others in her life less, it was just that she knew how difficult life could be and if she perceived you had been dealt a "bad hand", she would be there to support you.
My wish was that Alice would someday find a companion in life that appreciated her qualities and would finally take care of her. It never happened and she ended up fighting right to the end.
All I can say is that I know what she accomplished. She really is my hero. Thank you mom. You did it!
Love,
Just Chas.
Oh my goodness, either I'm becomming a bigger sap every day or your writing so clearly conveys your emotion that you may consider my heart strings tugged!
Again with the crying. That was a beautiful post.