Interviewer’s Note

This speaker has been a joy to talk to. She’s proud of the life she’s lived and has a lot of gratitude for the great people she’s had in her life. I’m still amazed that she made it a point to continue visiting Paris for 30 years. Talking to her was a reminder for me that we owe it to ourselves to continue doing the things we love.

Finding My Canvas Early

I’ve always lived within four miles of where I sit today in Baltimore, but my world has been anything but small. Art found me when I was about 13, not the other way around. It’s something that drives you inside. Like what makes someone become an ice skater or a gymnast? You just know.

Those summer programs at a local art college I did when I was 14 and 15 taught me how to draw properly, how to see the world through an artist’s eyes. From then on, painting became an all-encompassing thing for me. Most of my artwork has been oil painting. I love the way it can be manipulated, how you can blend colors in ways you can’t with watercolor or acrylic. The only problem is it takes a lot of time to clean up, and I’m not happy with cleaning up!

After high school, I became an X-ray technician. We didn’t have much money after my father died when I was 19, and I didn’t want to sink Mother into college debt. That two-year course at a local hospital is where I met my husband, J., an orthopedics resident rotating through the children’s unit.

J. and I had two daughters just 11 months apart. When he worried that X-rays weren’t safe for a pregnant person, I stopped working (though anyone with two little babies knows you never really stop working!) Those early years were about building a life together, moving from a small apartment to a medium-sized house, learning to cook well, and raising our girls.

I think the most important role I’ve played in life was mother. You’ve got these little babies that grow up, and it’s up to you to steer them in the right direction and give them a pat on the back when they’re right. What I accomplished in that role was ending up with two wonderful daughters who care about me, and grandchildren who care about me. That’s priceless.

The Beach House Years

The thing that really changed my life was building our beach house in Delaware, in 1965. We kept it for 42 years, from when my girls were small until J. started failing in his health. It took me away from the city for four months each year, and what a wonderful life that was.

The air was clean, we had deer and all kinds of little animals and owls. My girls learned to swim there, to sail, to play tennis. If there was anything to learn, I enrolled them. They had lots of friends come stay with us, and I had friends come stay with me too. For the first couple of years, we had neither television nor telephone. Still, it was paradise.

Those summers shaped not just our family, but our friendships. We made connections with people from all walks of life, including the growing gay community there. Good friends come from the most unusual places. You just have to be open to it.

Adventures in Art and Business

When the girls got older, I started designing needlework, painting directly on canvas with colors that matched available yarns. I began with a shop paying me $25 for a finished painting, which wasn’t quite fair, so I branched out on my own. I painted everything from church kneelers to wall hangings to people’s memorabilia pictures of their houses. I never made a lot, but I enjoyed what I was doing.

Eventually, I burned out on that and my sister and I opened a travel accessories shop in the Baltimore area. The idea came to me while waiting for a plane connection in Fort Myers. All these people with bags and stuff hanging out, and I thought there really wasn’t one place to go buy all these travel necessities. We didn’t make much money, but we had a good time and met interesting people for about ten years.

A Love Affair with Paris

For 30 years, J. and I went to Paris every year. Oh God, I love Paris! It’s so walkable, the history is fascinating, the food is amazing. Even though I don’t speak French, I can read it, and somebody once told us we’d never starve there because we know all the food words.

The last few years we went, we rented a concierge’s apartment. I even went once with a broken arm in a cast – I’d fallen walking my dog in an alley three days before the trip. Since J. was an orthopedist, we got a friend of his to fix it up with a plate and screws, and I learned to paint with the cast on. My paintings ended up pretty impressionistic, which they might not have been without the cast.

I also went to St. Croix in the Virgin Islands every year for 30 years with my art teacher and friends. We started out painting but ended up basically drinking, going to the beach, swimming, and eating good food. My husband didn’t mind, and it gave my girls precious time alone with their father, allowing them to grow close.  

Passages and Wisdom

I’ve had a very lucky, very happy life. Through each passage of time, childhood, teenager, young adult, marriage, motherhood, grandmotherhood, I’ve tried to make the best of what I’ve been dealt.

I guess I grew up in a middle upper-class society and didn’t know many minority people. But I’ve met and befriended many at this point, and life is so much richer knowing people from all backgrounds. I think that everybody should be open to understanding where people are coming from. Growing up, I had some racism, but frankly, I didn’t know that’s what it was. Racism is mostly ignorance. My kids have so many friends from different parts of society and races, it’s healthy.

Finding Friends in Unexpected Places

When we moved to our condo after J. started failing, I discovered you find good friends in the most unusual places. My next-door neighbor and I have become such close friends. She jokes and calls me her twin but ten years older. She’s been here to visit me in the hospital.

A lot of people in the condo say, “Oh, you’re so lucky your family is here so often.” We get together for birthdays, Christmas, family celebrations, but they’re very frequently staying with me. Now one of my daughters has moved into the same building after living in Los Angeles for 25 years. It’s really nice to have her here.  

Looking Forward with Hope

My hopes and dreams for my loved ones are that they live in a democratic society with peace and no more wars. I don’t understand why someone would want to fight. I’m old enough to remember what Hitler was like, and fortunately it didn’t affect my living world, but I think we’re too close to it right now. I don’t want my children or grandchildren to have to live in a Hitler-like society.

What I want to pass along is this: no matter what you’ve been dealt, make the best of it. Keep your mind and heart open to people from all walks of life. Travel when you can. Create something beautiful, whether it’s art or needlework or a warm home or strong friendships.

I’ve written extensively about my life and done genealogy work so my family will know their history. But more than facts and dates, I want them to know that life can be rich and full and surprising right up until the end. At almost 89, I thought my mind would be gone by now, but here I am, still amazed by what this little old lady can think and feel and remember. Life can be kind of amazing that way.