My Mom

Anyone who has loved a parent can understand my reminiscing about my mom and forgive me a walk through my memories. And what memories there are!

Several people I know would agree that my mother, Mab Graff Hoover, was the funniest lady they’d ever met. Being funny came naturally to her, and although that wasn’t her only amazing attribute, it’s what I’m going to write about today.

To tell all the hilarious things I remember her saying or doing would truly be a book, so I’ll just relate a few. If you laugh, you’d undoubtedly enjoy one of her twelve books, half of which told of her escapades and mess-ups. Her most famous one was, God Loves My KITCHEN Best, published by Zondervan in 1977 originally, and at least twenty more times in the eighties and nineties. They are now out of print, but might show up on a used book site.

The tales I will give you here are not in any of her books.

First in my high school to have a pair of contact lenses, I was quite the sensation, even with my mom though it was her idea. But I’ll never forget her almost childlike demand: “I want to try them on!!” After a minute or two of trying unsuccessfully to convince her that she wouldn’t like the feeling, but being an obedient daughter, I said, “O.K, look down and open your eyes really big.”  Within a nano second of my inserting the contact into her huge, blue eye, she began to scream, “Get it out! Get it out!” Not nearly as easy to get out as to get in, but I did, and for about an hour she kept her eye closed. I should have been the adult and said “No” that time!

The first time Don came over for dinner after we met, Mother served fried chicken. Hoping for her favorite piece, nervous in front of this new male presence, she didn’t ask for the platter, but instead asked, “May I have the chicken CHEST?” We all dissolved with laughter at her explanation that she “Didn’t want to say the real word in front of Don!”

Fast forward through our wedding, three kids, careers, blah, blah, blah.

On our twenty-fifth anniversary, we had a great party in or backyard, thrown by our three children. At this gathering was a couple we didn’t know well, but because one of their children knew one of our children, they were there. During the party, my mom had gotten acquainted with the husband who was a brilliant engineer. As the party was winding down, “George and Evelyn” (names changed to protect the unsuspecting) were at the front door saying their goodbyes. Suddenly, my mother said, “Well, George, you sure don’t look like an egghead.” Seeing puzzlement ripple around the little circle at the door, Mother quickly added, “Oh I don’t mean because you’re bald!” If our entryway hadn’t been tile, I would have tried to dig a hole to crawl into. Silence was followed by a stiff goodbye.

One Christmas Eve we had a mixed gathering of people at our home; a friend’s mom and brother, our nephew and wife, one or two of our kids, and my mother and Joe, her long-suffering husband. Again in our entry way, a small candle caught some decorations around it on fire. Being the first to notice it, my mom yelled, “FIRE!”

Don asked, “Where”

Mother, hollered  “FIRE!”

Don demanded, “WHERE?

And yet a third time, in a panic, she croaked, “FIRE!”

Thankfully, by this time others found the fire and we put it out.

You had to be there.

Oh, there’s more.

She gaily confessed to a ranger in Sequoia of having left a six-pack of root beer out for the bears.  That snagged them a $25 fine.

Perhaps on the same trip, she hid Travelers’ checks in the center of a paper towel roll in their motorhome, only to throw it out when she used the last towel!

Another day as we were driving from Rancho Cucamonga to San Diego, she took a picture of a long, orange barrier net (the kind commonly seen at construction sites) with the excited comment, “Look at all those California Poppies.”  She had already had her cataract surgery too. I was with her for that…it was the time the doctor had to ask her “to please stop talking” during the surgery!

Last story, when she and Joe bought their plots at Rose Hills, she insisted that they lie down there to see if the spaces were long enough. Sure enough, they are.  Miss her like crazy.