Untraditionally Traditional

15 years feels like a milestone amount of time. One that makes me pause and question where the last 15 years went. I did a quick Google search to see what was happening in the world 15 years ago. My brain keeps a ticker of how many years have passed since my mom died, but my brain does not keep a ticker of current events that happened that year. Noteworthy was that New York state legalized same-sex marriage, Osama bin Laden was killed, there were numerous tsunamis and earthquakes around the world, Steve Jobs died, and Apple released the iPhone 4S (with Siri!). Another interesting tidbit from 2011 is that Spotify came to the US. How can it be that Spotify feels like it’s been in my life for more than 15 years and at the same time it feels like there’s no way it’s been 15 years since I’ve seen my mom? Time is a wild thing.

A year ago I wrote to you about remembering to March Forth on March Fourth. Before I ramble on about some seemingly insignificant musings, I am going to remind you of that again today. If you are reading this right now, you are so incredibly fortunate- for many reasons. And as I said last year, March Forth in someone else’s god damn shoes. 

I recently spent a good 5 minutes in the car laughing so hard I was crying remembering some very “untraditional yet so traditionally Queen Jean” moments. I’m going to do my best to capture these, but I’m not sure my words will do these stories justice. When I think of untraditional and traditional things related to my mom, a few things come to mind. Notably, she was born on February 2. February 2 marks Groundhog Day, arguably the most untraditional ‘holiday’ on the calendar. My mom really took pride in her birthday being on Groundhog Day. Not surprisingly, she owned a groundhog cookie cutter (although when baked, they were phallic looking so they were not allowed to go to her class at school), a groundhog puppet, groundhog necklaces, and groundhog clothing. It was so classically Jean that she was born on this very untraditional holiday.

My girls think my mom's groundhog puppet is a riot.
And no, they don't sit still for photos.

There’s also the fact that she got married and did not change her last name in the 1980’s. This was very edgy at the time- especially when she moved to the South.

In her "keeping my maiden name" era.

And then there were the times she needed to dress up for book character day at school and she sought out a book about a hot dog titled “Hall-o-weiner” so that she could dress up as a hot dog to promote the family restaurant. I don’t know if “untraditionally traditional” makes any sense, but I hope you get the concept by now. Basically, it’s off the wall yet it is so classic Queen Jean that nobody is surprised.

The family that sells hot dogs together stays together.

Me in the hot dog suit with
all 7 Chicago toppings.

    

  

One of my favorite untraditional yet traditional Queen Jean memories begins with riding in our Dodge Caravan with Nancy and some friends from carpool. I remember exactly the street we were on in Sandy Springs because we turned a corner and I saw a woman on the side of the road frantically waving at us. I screamed at my mom to stop the car and she did. It’s unclear to me if she saw the waving woman, or didn’t realize why I was screaming and slammed on the brakes thinking we were about to hit something in the road. Who knows. But before we knew it, the woman was at the driver's side window telling us that she had twin babies in the hospital and desperately needed a ride to a local church. To my disbelief, my mom let a woman from the side of the road into our car. Into our car! We didn’t have a cell phone, but we had a “car phone.” Remember those? In the brief seconds the woman was walking from the driver side to the passenger side, my mom cued up “911” on the car phone, put her hand on the passenger headrest to help her fully turn around to everyone in the backseat and said, “girls, don’t you EVER, EVER do this.” And we proceeded to drive the woman to a church, drop her off, and we were left with a story for the books. Untraditional because you wouldn’t think my mom would do that and traditional because it’s so on point that she did (while also giving a stern lesson to never do what she just did).

This van was not the caravan from my story, but who can resist a reminder of the wood paneled van and Nancy showing off her hula hooping skills.

Somewhere in between car phones and Spotify, there were digital cameras. I saved up my money, probably from babysitting, and bought a silver Canon PowerShot digital camera. It had a wrist strap and a screen so you could see the image. If you’re close to my age, I’m sure you can picture (pun totally intended) exactly the camera I’m talking about because everyone had one at the time. 

I took this camera out on a kayak/canoe trip and got paired with a very good friend for the day. Somehow everyone else got a single or double kayak and we were left in a canoe. We should never have been paired together in a canoe. We knew it too, but nobody else wanted the canoe, so there we were. My brand new digital camera was along for the ride sealed up extra tight in a Ziplock bag. You know where this is going…we flipped our canoe, everything got soaked and to this day we’re still unsure how we got the canoe upright. Somehow amidst a lot of chaos, I did manage to hold onto the camera without letting it float away. 

I came home, absolutely distraught that my brand new hard earned camera was ruined. It looked perfectly fine- not at all water logged and not a scratch in sight. We soaked it in rice to no avail. Here’s where the very untraditional part of this story comes in. My mom TOLD me to go back to the store, purchase another one, swap out the tiny SD card, and put the water logged camera in the new box, return it, and say that it just wouldn’t turn on anymore. I remember going up to the returns counter at the store incredibly worried that this plan was not going to work. But guess what? It was seamless. This was long before Geek squad people or receipt tracking so nobody knew any different. But…..what the actual fuck was my mother trying to teach me? All I can muster is that she loved nothing more than the thrill of a good return. So untraditional, yet so absolutely like her to find a way around the system.  

As I sifted through old pictures this evening, I found a letter that a dear, dear family friend wrote the day of my mom’s memorial service. She wrote about the last time she saw my mom in Atlanta. She wrote, “Jean’s parenting instincts were so apparent. This was a home filled with love, creativity, lots of silliness, and Hetzel/Howe ethics.” The irony here just made me laugh and cry all at the same time. Yes, that quote so traditionally and beautifully describes my mom. And yet there she was also very untraditionally teaching me to be a scam artist.

The faces of scam artists.

Time really is a wild thing. These stories barely made it to being typed this year. I questioned if I had the time and wondered if my eyes would stay open while I typed after putting kids to bed. I hope if nothing else, this reminds you to pause and remember some of your own positive and silly memories of those you love. And maybe, every once in a while, find a way to be the most untraditional version of yourself.