Mom's Legacy

Jeff—Saturday

It’s strange how these days of quarantine have us musing over matters we once rarely thought of at all, and even then only in passing. Tomorrow is Mother’s Day, and having been without a mother for nearly twenty-five years, or married to one (until this year :)) for far longer, I’ve largely forgotten all about the significance of the day—just ask my daughter or daughter-in-law.

This year, though, as I sat down to write my blog for the week, I found myself thinking of my mother, and all she’d been through as a child of immigrant parents; born in the final year of the Spanish Flu Pandemic, growing up through the Great Depression, and living through World War II.  How very different her life experiences had to have been from those of her three sons.

Spanish Flu Emergency Hospital in Pennsylvania

Pittsburgh Unemployment Line

Old time Pittsburgh Steel Mill

With Covid-19 and Depression Era unemployment upon us, I’ve been wondering how what we’re going through these days might re-shape the lives of my grandchildren in the same manner as what my mother experienced in her formative years altered her approach to life.

That’s when I remembered the thank you message I’d written to the many who’d attended my mother’s funeral. I don’t know why I wrote it—I’d no intention of becoming a writer back then—but I felt that I should as a tribute to a glorious soul who’d weathered so much with grace, charm and a deep love for all. 

Reading it again gave me great comfort, for it reminded me that, no matter how harsh the times, beautiful souls surrounded by love and familial support shall prevail.

So, thank you, Mom, for all the sacrifices you endured to make me the man I am today.  I’ll leave it to others to decide whether that was a good or bad achievement. J 

I love you mom. We all do.

THELMA SIGER (1919‑1996)

My mother never knew how to be anything but nice to everyone she ever met.  She never thought it was anything special to be that way, she figured it was just part of who she was ‑‑‑ much like flames at night along the river just seemed to be part of the mill‑town skies of the Pittsburgh of her youth.  But she was special, extraordinarily special.

Mother wasn't much on words (except when delivered to one or more of her sons on certain deserved occasions at equally appropriate decibel levels), but boy was she ever big on deeds.  Mother was always there with an embracing heart, steel will and much more for anyone who ever needed her; and heaven protect you if you said one unkind word about any soul in her protection.

Mother's last years were not kind to her.  Those of us who knew her and loved her didn't really question God's hand in this, because she would not have wanted us to.   Rather, we prayed she would not be in pain, and in our separate ways thought we were preparing ourselves to accept her passing.  But that was something we could never do; no more than we could prepare ourselves for the ending of warmth.  As long as there remained one sweet ember of her life we felt the warmth of her soul still with us.  Now gone, I can no longer feel, only remember.  That makes me very sad and I miss her very much.

But life goes on, and armed with the knowledge that no one could ever have had a better mother I'll just try to do what is necessary to make her proud.  After all, when I get to see her and my dad again (assuming they'll be able to convince whoever is in charge to let me in), I want her to know that I tried my best to live my life following her teaching that unquestioning loyalty among family and friends is a treasure beyond value.  That's why this thank you is for more than just your kindness in mother's memory, it is for your friendship and love.  Thanks.

—Jeff