Remembering Mom: The Thoroughly Modern Woman

My mom, Beatriz R. Diaz-Granados, died on July 19, 2015, 1110 days ago. She was 86 years old and was in extremely poor health. She had been bedridden since mid-2010, when a combination of old back injuries, osteoporosis, and old age necessitated an operation to stiffen her spine with a metal rod so she would not become paralyzed. The operation was done in late June of 2010, and although she rallied at first and did well with the initial rehabilitation program ordered by her primary care physician at Leon Medical Center, she suffered several setbacks that inevitably led to her death three summers ago. A nasty - and unnecessary - spill from a wheelchair; a fractured leg that eventually healed but robbed Mom of her self-confidence; the onset of dementia and Sundown Syndrome; depression; anxiety over the growing rift between her two adult children; loss of appetite;  frustration that she was confined to a room that she did not like much; and worry about my future after her passing....all these things ate away at Mom's once indomitable spirit. In the end, she was tired and ready to go to "the undiscovered country from whose bourn/No traveler returns."

And although I saw her for the last time, in her closed casket at her funeral Mass some 1108 days ago, that's not how I want to remember my mother.  And knowing how she felt about such things, I am not going to slip into a perpetual state of mourning. I mean, I miss my mom and always will, but she would want me to focus on the things that made our lives brighter, not the ones that darkened our horizons like some menacing tropical storm heading toward our little townhouse in Fountainbleau. 

 Cool Facts About My Mom

She was independent and forward-thinking: You know how parents always have one child that they are more simpatico with (even though they will not admit it, even to themselves)? In my mother's case, her older sister, Martha Isabel, was my grandmother's favorite child, and it was painfully obvious. My grandfather, of course, gave much of his attention to the other two kids, Octavio and Beatriz. Octavio was "groomed" to be the next generation's businessman, like Grandfather, who befriended George Parker when they were both students at a military school in the U.S, in the early 1900s and later was the Parker Pen representative for all of Colombia. He loved my Aunt Martha dearly, of course, but the true apple of his eye was my mother. She was the prettiest of the two girls, and she was outgoing, curious about the world, loved all animals but had a soft spot for dogs, and she loved to read voraciously. My grandfather loved to read, too, so the apple didn't fall too far from that tree. (Grandmother liked to read, too; but her focus was on being the lady of the house, the person who ran things so that her husband could run his business efficiently and profitably.) 

As a result, when my mom was old enough to travel abroad and appreciate the charms of Europe and even the post-war United States, my grandfather often took her on his overseas trips. Most of the early trips Mom went on with Grandfather were to the U.S. - France, Spain, and Italy were still recovering from the War, but New York, Miami, and Janesville, Wisconsin (where my Uncle Octavio was interning at the Parker Pen Co.) were frequent stops in the itinerary. As a result, my mother (I think by osmosis) absorbed many of the modern ideas of a woman's role from American girls and women that she met during her travels. 

Although she was never - well, hardly ever - rude or coarse, my mother was never quite comfortable in the traditional role of housemaker/high society matron, like my grandmother and grandaunts had been raised to be. She did not mind being given the skills to run a household, and had she so chosen, she could have toed the line of family tradition and become a "lady of the house," married to a husband from "a good family," following the protocol of the time, hiring and managing her own retinue of domestic servants,  and taking turns at attending dinners and galas and then inviting people to similar dinners and galas. She accepted my grandmother's tutelage in these matters - one never knows what the future holds, after all - but she hoped that she could someday break away from that lifestyle. 

In the meantime, Mom was a thoroughly modern woman. She loved the outdoors, was somewhat of a tomboy in her early childhood years, but later was a lady-like young teen. I've been told that she looked a lot like Veronica Lake.  Her favorite movie back in those days was Gone With the Wind; later, before dementia robbed her of the ability to follow a movie's plot and story arcs, I bought the 70th Anniversary Blu-ray of GWTW for one of her last Christmases. (I'm not fond of the film, but I kept the Blu-ray for sentimental reasons,)  She also liked many of Errol Flynn's movies; years later, when she was a flight attendant for Avianca, Colombia's flagship airline, she met Flynn when he was a passenger on a plane my mom was serving aboard on the New York-to-Montego Bay route. (He was a perfect gentleman, Mom told me.)