I was talking to my sisters recently about my mom’s bells, our mom’s porcelain bells. She used to collect these souvenir items, which were easy to come by. It was great because when traveling for the SBDC in the 1990s, I would get one from Nashville, New Orleans, Orlando, or wherever the ASBDC annual meeting took place.
My sisters gave me some context of the whole thing. My father returned from a trip somewhere and brought her a bell. Knowing her, she would have said, “Oh, that’s very nice.” So he would get her another bell and another. Suddenly, she had a collection of them.
This went on for several years until one day, I heard that she didn’t want those “dust collectors” anymore, and I thought, “Oh, what a bummer.”
The more accurate story was that she was dusting them. The bells resided on this semi-wall between the dining room and the living room of their house in Charlotte, NC. She got up on a step ladder or a stoop, fell, and hurt herself. That was the end of her collecting the bells. I did not know the why of the story until recently.
It makes me wonder if she ever really wanted that collection of bells or if she saw that it gave my father, me, and maybe others joy at getting her something that she didn’t have. It saddened me to think that perhaps she never really wanted the bells. Once she experienced physical pain as a direct result of having them, that was that.
Toilet Water
When I was growing up, the go-to present for our mom was JEAN NATÉ. “The perfume was first launched back in 1935 for the Jean Nate Company, which was later bought by Revlon. This timeless classic possesses citrus, floral, and spicy notes, such as lavender, jasmine, rose, carnation, lily of the valley, cedar, tonka bean, musk, and sandalwood.” But it’s described here as Eau de Toilette.
It was often a bust when I tried to go off script in gift giving. In 1981, I bought her an LP, Joe Jackson’s Jumpin’ Jive, based on my understanding that she liked some of the original Louis Jordan and Cab Calloway songs. She was a tactful woman, but it was pretty evident that she did not particularly enjoy my selection. I went back to the bells.
My mom, Gertrude Elizabeth (Trudy) Green, nee Williams, would have been 98 today.