I waved at the delivery driver and retrieved the package from my front steps. As I straightened up, I did a double take at one of our weeping cherry trees. There were already yellow leaves at the top. I wasn’t expecting such an early glimpse of autumn in the first week of August. But seasons keep changing, one blending into the next. August feels like summer, but it ushers in the first hints of fall.
The seasons of our lives change slowly but surely, too. My beautiful and gracious mother-in-law, Carmen, now 94, recently moved from her assisted living apartment to a room in long-term care. Our family sensed this day was coming, but we were still caught by surprise. Mothers are supposed to be invincible. We want them with us forever to keep doling out advice and acting as our No.1 cheerleaders.
My future husband, Mike, took me to meet his parents for the first time in 1975. They were living in Sidney, Ohio, back then. My late father-in-law, Jack, who spent a long career in industrial management, moved the family often – more than my mother-in-law would’ve liked – but every place they landed, she worked her magic to create a beautiful and welcoming home.
As I toured their house in Sidney, I oohed and awed. “Those lamps are beautiful!” I chirped. Everything I commented on was met with the same humble reply from Carmen, “Thank you. I made that.” What?? Who makes their own lamps? Well … Carmen. She knew how to use every woodworking and power tool known to woman. New living room lamps? She could fire up the lathe and turn some out, easy-peasy.
It didn’t stop there. She reupholstered furniture. Sewed her own drapes. Designed most of her own clothing. And nothing she created ever looked homemade. She toted pen and paper with her to upscale department stores and made sketches of fancy dresses she liked. Then, she’d head back home to recreate the designs – WITHOUT USING A PATTERN! Seriously, who does that, other than Parisian designers in their ateliers? Yeah, you know who.
But wait, there’s more! Carmen was a sculptor, a painter, a knitter, a crocheter, a writer and if that’s not enough, the woman knew her way around a rod and reel. She may have dreamt of elegant trips to Paris or Rome, but she accepted her fate and trekked to northern Minnesota or Canada with Jack and her three sons every summer to fish. Carmen was a competitive fisherwoman – with a capital C. I don’t think my father-in-law ever forgave her the year she landed the biggest northern pike ever caught by a Mangas. I believe her record still stands.
That long-ago evening when I met Carmen, I began to worry. I didn’t have her talents. If Mike expected me to become a renaissance woman like his mother, I figured it was time to let him know the jig was up. I liked to read and write, enjoyed lively discussions, and loved spending time with family. I was a decent cook. I could separate lights from darks and do a mean load of laundry, but that was about it for my skillset. Luckily, Mike accepted my shortcomings, and thankfully, so did Carmen.
When Carmen made her most recent move, this time it was her sons Mike and Steve who planned the layout of her room and decorated it with her elegant artwork. It looks lovely and welcoming, and she’s comfortable there. She taught her boys well.
“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.” Ecclesiastes 3:1
Sharon Mangas is a Columbus resident and can be reached at [email protected]. Send comments to [email protected].
