Today’s post honors some gems you might not know about my centenarian mom.
I thought about them when I couldn’t sleep last night. We’re going through a hot spell here and approaching a full moon, which is a double whammy as either tend to leave me thrashing about and wide awake. Francine was the same. Her middle name could have been,”I’ve Been Awake Since 3.”
Anywho, to avoid looking at the clock, I focussed on random minutiae and eventually stumbled into Francineland. It felt natural do so as we are on the cusp of the one year anniversary of when she passed. Oof.
Some Gems You Might Not Know About My Centenarian Mom
She had bendy thumbs. I don’t. Mine are like chubby popsicle sticks.
“Oh, Kel, surely you can bend yours more than that.”
“Nope. Not a hope, Francine.”
Random note: As I’m barely capable of drawing a stick figure, I always associate more artistic folk with bendy thumbs.
Well into her 90’s, she acquired a wonky fourth finger on her right hand. She couldn’t control it from folding in on itself. The few cortisone injections worked for a little bit but they weren’t permanent solutions. The doc recommended against surgery due to her age, so she just lived with it.
Anyone in our family can demo how she straightened it manually. You can, too. Place your outstretched hand flat on a table, keeping the fourth finger bent. Using your other hand, slowwwwly pick up the crooked fourth finger and even more slowly, straighten the bent knuckle. Glance around, make sure you’ve an audience, and then flip the straightened digit onto the table.
Nice effort. She’d be impressed.
*Bonus gem* – note the jade bracelets on her right arm. Purchased decades ago in China on a FROG buying trip, she always wore them. Lose her in a boisterous crowd? No worries, the bracelets’ jangle would lead you right to her.
Okay, so readers of Never, Never, Hardly Ever are familiar with her diaries. But. Did you know everything was put on hold whenever she needed to jot a note in her diary. God help us if she ever forgot to record what she had for breakfast …
Ha. I can hear her now, “Kelly, if not for my diaries your book would be a pamphlet.”
It’s true. It would be.
Francine stopped drinking alcohol in the last 40 years of her life. Okay, she had the odd tipple every now and then, but the days of enjoying a chilled bottle of Mateus Rosé or quaffing a stiff G and T were long past.
She’s posing with my brother’s pint.
Our centenarian loved being the centre of attention.
The Best Gem of All? Guess Who Had Her Own TV Series
Francine was thrilled when a local station asked her to give a set of six lectures on Japanese antiques. Filmed live during the prime 6am slot, I remember my brother, sister and I were SO bored. Watching Perfect Mommy wrap up a lengthy lecture on antique Japanese samurai swords on TV was soul destroying. Until she suddenly froze.
“Uh. I see. We have a little more time available. Ten minutes? What luck. I did hope to show you in more detail how to care for your sword.”
When Francine next spoke, it was as if she’d suffered a stroke. The words appeared slower than any ketchup.
“As I mentioned, the sword’s surface is polished with uchiko powder. That is pronounced “You-Cheek-Oh.” Say it with me. “Uchiko.” Excellent. Now say it on your own. Good. One more time. Did you say it with the Y? As in ‘you’? Excellent. Well. Let’s look again at the powder.” She reached for it, flashing a rictus smile. “One must use the powder, Uchiko powder, verrrrry sparingly so as to not damage the surface of the blade. As you know, uchiko is made from ground up polishing stones.” Francine paused and shot a hopeful look at someone off camera. “Oh, still more time? Okay. Let’s have another look at the sheath, shall we?”
It was classic Francine flying by the seat of her pants.
We loved it. What a shame we don’t have a copy today. Can you say, “instantly viral?”
When I did manage to fall asleep last night, I dreamt I was back home in my old bedroom. A camera crew, complete with a sound guy holding a long boom, suddenly burst into the room. Francine was right behind them.
“Hi, Kel. This won’t take a minute – my new friends just want to interview you about what it’s like to be my daughter.”
Wait. What? Are you worried we’ll forget ya? Rest easy, Francine. There’s NO chance of that, not with me around.
Bring on manuscript number two …
