The family was up at the cabin this weekend. Saturday was pretty windy, so Mom suggested we run into town and see if there were any kites at the drug store. My grand-nieces had never flown kites before, she thought they’d enjoy it.
We bought three kites - one ‘normal’ one, two cute ones shaped like animals (one turtle, one owl). Assembled them in a few minutes, and out to the field we all went.
A few hours later my grand-nieces were bored. One kept sending her owl into the three trees out there, causing TheKid using her mad tree climbing skillz to bring it down. The other was sitting on the ground, in tears, because she couldn’t keep her kite up for more than a few minutes before it Charlie Browned on her.
Then there was Mom. Standing back by the cornfield. Huge grin on her face. Kite way up high, almost no string left on her spool. She would have stayed out there all day, if the clouds hadn’t thickened up.
She regaled us with stories about her youth, of making kites out of twigs and the want ads (she was very specific about the want ads - their father wouldn’t let them use any other section) with her brother. She always wanted to fly kites, but she always had a hard time getting them to lift off.
Sunday morning Sis and I were again sent to town to pick up more kites. Brought four back. We all spent all Sunday flying kites, with a normally taciturn woman wearing a smile from ear to ear.
As she forgets things with increasing frequency, times like this brings tears to my eyes. She was 100% present and was leading the charge.
That was my first thought, too, Johnny. Love that movie.
The image of your mom flying that kite was really sweet, MissTake. I kind of wish I had someone like your mom to take me kite flying. Haven’t done it since I was tiny!
Sis and I were talking about kite flying. Both of us remember receiving kites when we were young. I know my Uncle (Mom’s bro) gave me one for my birthday when I was maybe 7. I remember Dad and I going to the field a block away and me totally failing. He would get it going, hand it to me, and CRASH. Down it went. I think I gave up after an hour and never flew a kite again. Mom didn’t join. Sis said she was about the same age when she received a kite and had the same experience, also without Mom.
Mom also let us in on a lot of dirt about our uncle/her only sibling. When she was 10 and he was 17 he taught her a long Yiddish phrase and told her to say it to their Mom. It was my mom’s first experience with soap in the mouth. I told her he taught me some improper Yiddish when I was 18, telling me to say it to her. I (wisely) never did. She said I was lucky, those words were burned in her throat. Now I can’t remember them. This was the same uncle who bought me a drum kit when I was six. Sibling cruelty playing out across a generation.