Blog #4 My Mom

My mom was gorgeoous. She graduated from Mount Ida College, and worked initially as a secretary. She also was a model, and you can certainly see why from the pictures. People often referred to her as the "Elizabeth Taylor" look alike.

I don't know much about her childhood, but her father, Jack, was a locksmith in Dorchester, Massachusetts. My mom shared that he was a hard worker, and I learned that he provided the keys for the infamous 1950's "Great Brink's Robbery" in Boston, where 2.7 million dollars was stolen. I never met my grandfather, as he had a heart attack and died just before my twin and I were born.

Mom loved to ride horses, and in fact, she was quite athletic. Late into her sixties, she was teaching fifteen aerobics classes a week. She always took meticulous care of herself. I remember each morning she would get up and shower, make her bed and straighten out. Then, she would sit at her mother's antique dressing table, and carefully massage her face with Alexander De Markoff lotion. She would put makeup on, jewelry, and she was set for the day.

Mom had a rough time in the marriage with dad. She was unaware of his mental illness when she married him. At the tender age of twenty-five she had my sister, who was born with Down's Syndrome. Back in 1956, babies born with this were shunned, and my mother was forced to surrender Stephanie to the State by my grandmother.

This tore her apart, and thus, my mom coped with depression and anxiety for the rest of her life. I learned years later, that she searched for and found Stephanie in a local group home. She would secretly bring her new clothes and take her out to lunch on the weekends with my aunt.

Mom did the best she could. To survive her own pain, she became quite narcissistic. While she cooked wonderful meals and faithfully showed up to my swim meets, hockey tournaments, and choir concerts, she didn’t know how to truly nurture me or my brothers emotionally.

As you saw in my first blog, mom and I had our healing journey when she weakened towards the end of her life. This is when we both learned to love each other in a meaningful way. I look back at those visits in the nursing home, and taking her to her favorite place, the mall, with such deep gratitude. Every time I bought her new clothes, she would say, "Thank you doll."

Two weeks after mom passed away, my older brother called me and said, "I heard the song 'Dust in the Wind,' and thought of mom. Later that day, my twin called me and shared the same thing, and my brother's do not speak to one another.

It was a message from mom to me—In 2008, 'Dust in the Wind' was the first song I learned on the guitar. When I visited the nursing home, I would bring my guitar, and sing for her and the residents...

I knew she was okay. She was a wonderful teacher to me—I learned strength and resilience, and this has served me well in all the chapters of my life. I love you mom, and am forever grateful for our journey together.

Lisa Bromfield

Transformational Life Guide

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