A Valentine’s letter to my mother

Dearest Mom,

Happy Valentine’s Day… (Photo credit: Јerry)

I wish you were here. It’s almost Valentine’s day, and I still think about you. I thought you would live forever and you almost did. At ninety-one you finally gave in. I feel slightly guilty that I made you sign the paper giving the doctor permission to do that hip operation. I didn’t know you’d be signing your death certificate. I know you would never want me to blame myself. I do believe it was your “time to go.”

I figured you’d come through that like you did everything. You’d had a couple of  really bad breaks. You were a strong woman. You weren’t the type to feel sorry for yourself. Going blind at the end was very hard on you, but you “did the best you could.”

Things were starting to slip. Sometimes, you’d get things confused. One time, when we were listening to the radio, you asked me who was singing. It was Perry Como, your life-long crush.

[Portrait of Perry Como, New York, N.Y., ca. Oct. 1946] (LOC) (Photo credit: The Library of Congress)

You didn’t remember much about my childhood. That you’d nursed me through a staff infection for two years, that when I broke my shoulder, you’d made slings out of Cleveland Indian scarves. You couldn’t remember our family trip to Washington D.C. when I was 12.  It was like that part of our lives together never happened.

You rarely talked about my father. Not unless I brought it up. Remembering him was just too painful. I know you were hoping to see him after you died. But being the practical person you were, you didn’t believe that was going to really happen. Even though I’m just as practical, I like to imagine that you are together.

When I came to visit, we stuck with the tasks at hand. Walking down to the dining hall, taking a walk outside, and listening to that old radio station where they played all your favorites: Eddie Fisher, Perry Como, Bing Crosby, and all those singers from the 1940’s.

You still loved to go out to eat. It was almost like you were escaping from that independent living facility every time I came to visit. It was almost like we were partners in crime.

You loved to go to the beauty shop, and listen to the hair-stylists talk to their customers. It was the last place where you could feel like one of the girls.

In your old age you still cared more about me than you did yourself. You asked me if I wanted that extra dinner you’d ordered from the kitchen of the independent living facility where you lived. You asked me if I was comfortable sleeping on the couch overnight. You offered me sheets and a pillow. You tried your very best to be a good hostess.

You dearly loved all your grandchildren ( and great-grandchildren) and gave what you could to all of them. They were your hope for the future. Maybe your exterior seemed a little tough, but inside you were all mushy. You just didn’t let anyone know it.

When we went through your apartment, we found evidence of this secretive side: saved birthday cards, our old school report cards, photographs, engagement and wedding announcements and  programs from college graduations.

So, on Valentines Day I think of the one woman who loved me the most. When you died, you took my nickname with you. It isn’t the same if someone else calls me “Barbie.”  So, a part of me went with you. But, I’ll never forget you.

Happy Valentine’s Day mom.

“Liz and Dick” movie on Lifetime: Boring, boring and more boring

Cropped screenshot of Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor from the trailer for the film Cleopatra. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton are probably rolling over in their graves. I’m sure they would not be happy with the portrayal of their lives in the “Lifetime” movie “Liz and Dick.”

I usually enjoy Lindsay Lohan’s performances although she is a little crazy in her real life.  She doesn’t get a pass this time. Lohan plays Taylor too sweet and restrained.  Taylor’s temper tantrums don’t come across as violent or crazy enough. Plus, Lohan hardly varies her tone of voice. I would say it’s time for her to take a few refresher acting lessons, or stay off the booze and pills. She should also do something about her hoarse voice.

The actor who plays Richard Burton, Grant Bowler, was mediocre to bad. He had Burton’s voice down but, he’s just about as boring as Lohan. The two actors had absolutely no chemistry between them. It was impossible to see them as the two hottest lovers of the 20th century.

I watched the whole thing, and I kept hoping it would get interesting. It never delivered.

I remember the Taylor and Burton Scandal

Back in 1963, everyone was scandalized by the Taylor Burton love affair. At the time Taylor was a real vixen who’d broken up the marriage of Debbie Reynolds (actress)  and Eddie Fisher (a well-known singer.)  They were the  all American couple.  Then Elizabeth’s Taylor husband, Mike Todd, died in an airplane crash. Eddie Fisher comforted her and dumped Debbie and married Liz.

During the making of the movie, Cleopatra, Burton and Taylor fell madly in love.  If you watch this too long movie, there is obvious chemistry between them.

I remember reading about the torrid affair in Photoplay Magazine when I was a teenager.   It was the hottest affair of the 60’s. Burton had a stable marriage, and his wife, Sybil,  didn’t easily let him go. She was used to his affairs, but he usually returned home after he was done making a movie. She couldn’t keep him this time.

Taylor was the  glamorous diva actress of the 60’s. People were consumed with this scandal.  (At least teenagers liked to read about it.)

People finally accepted the Burton’s marriage after about 10 years. But wouldn’t you know it, just when people accepted it, they got sick of each other and got divorced. It was sweet when they got remarried a second time. That didn’t last long. (So much for true love.)
Conclusion

If you watch this movie, realize it’s a watered down version of what probably happened.  Better yet, change the channel. Burton and Taylor deserve better.

What did you think of the movie? Anyone like it?