September 2, 1915 - August 19, 2007
Mama sayings:
summer 2002:
"at age 86, i can say anything i want"
"look, she's smoking dope" (to lisa sucking on a lollipop)
"i didn't see his face, but the rest of him sure was good looking"
18 december 2003
"there always seemed to be better things to do on sunday" (about going to church)
"i believe in the goodness inside a person"
"i was at longs and i came around the corner and almost ran into an old man. i said excuse me and he said - "did you say you'd squeeze me?" i think it's the lipstick.
"i just throw it all in, close my eyes, and let it go"
"i took a taxi to my hairdresser. he says that he's been married 3x's and is 50 years. how about you, he asks. well i said, im 86 years old. after that he lost interest.
"lola keeps trying to hit on russ, but he won't have any of it" (the stuffed animals)
Mama Memories:
summer 2002:
"at age 86, i can say anything i want"
"look, she's smoking dope" (to lisa sucking on a lollipop)
"i didn't see his face, but the rest of him sure was good looking"
18 december 2003
"there always seemed to be better things to do on sunday" (about going to church)
"i believe in the goodness inside a person"
"i was at longs and i came around the corner and almost ran into an old man. i said excuse me and he said - "did you say you'd squeeze me?" i think it's the lipstick.
"i just throw it all in, close my eyes, and let it go"
"i took a taxi to my hairdresser. he says that he's been married 3x's and is 50 years. how about you, he asks. well i said, im 86 years old. after that he lost interest.
"lola keeps trying to hit on russ, but he won't have any of it" (the stuffed animals)
Mama Memories:
When a waiter was taking her order, she would always say, “I’ll have the soup and a real gooey dessert.” The waiter would always look confused, not knowing if she wanted her dessert with her soup, or which dessert on the menu would fall into the category of being “really gooey”.
Her strong grip.
Her carnation milkshakes, cinnamon toast and potato salad.
She was called “Cornette” by her family when she was a little girl, because of her love for corn.
Shopping at Windward Mall.
Getty up in the middle of the night to eat chocolate and then blaming the 24 hour aid of stealing it the next day.
Her bright pink/red lipstick. And the lipstick she discovered that was black but came out pink when applied.
Trips to Kailua , down duck road and lilikoi road, trips “around the island.”
When Papa was in the hospital, she drove away in Bertie, saying “I’m okay, I’m okay.” Then she drove over the curb separating the stalls in the parking lot. Jeffy and I followed her home.
Talking to the shamas.
Her vanilla beans, from the yard, selling them to Foster Gardens , putting them in vodka for truly delicious vanilla extract.
Collecting “poppers” from around the house and putting them in a little jar.
Her sunglasses.
Her “workshop.”
Her answers when someone complimented a piece of jewelry. For instance, “This? Oh, this I got when Walt and I were in England , shopping at…” If the item was a necklace, she would feel it, to remember what it was that she had on that day, and then begin to tell the story. And usually if it was a necklace it was she who had made it.
Pointing her feet and pretending she was dancing, as she held on to her walker.
“Hello dear.” (To salespeople, anyone.)
“I wish I could squash you.”
“When are you coming home?”
“Isn’t it fun?”
Pointing out a mountain above Hakipu’u and saying she once went down it in go-aheads. When asked what go-aheads were, she started to explain that during the war they found a cheaper way to make shoes with car tires. Eventually I realized she was talking about slippers!
Poems about Bertie, etc.
1) Bertie was often very dirty, and sometimes a little flirty…
2) Were the road ahead the way to go, I’d know. North, south, east or west, take the one that you know best.
Her strong grip.
Her carnation milkshakes, cinnamon toast and potato salad.
She was called “Cornette” by her family when she was a little girl, because of her love for corn.
Shopping at Windward Mall.
Getty up in the middle of the night to eat chocolate and then blaming the 24 hour aid of stealing it the next day.
Her bright pink/red lipstick. And the lipstick she discovered that was black but came out pink when applied.
Trips to Kailua , down duck road and lilikoi road, trips “around the island.”
When Papa was in the hospital, she drove away in Bertie, saying “I’m okay, I’m okay.” Then she drove over the curb separating the stalls in the parking lot. Jeffy and I followed her home.
Talking to the shamas.
Her vanilla beans, from the yard, selling them to Foster Gardens , putting them in vodka for truly delicious vanilla extract.
Collecting “poppers” from around the house and putting them in a little jar.
Her sunglasses.
Her “workshop.”
Her answers when someone complimented a piece of jewelry. For instance, “This? Oh, this I got when Walt and I were in England , shopping at…” If the item was a necklace, she would feel it, to remember what it was that she had on that day, and then begin to tell the story. And usually if it was a necklace it was she who had made it.
Pointing her feet and pretending she was dancing, as she held on to her walker.
“Hello dear.” (To salespeople, anyone.)
“I wish I could squash you.”
“When are you coming home?”
“Isn’t it fun?”
Pointing out a mountain above Hakipu’u and saying she once went down it in go-aheads. When asked what go-aheads were, she started to explain that during the war they found a cheaper way to make shoes with car tires. Eventually I realized she was talking about slippers!
Poems about Bertie, etc.
1) Bertie was often very dirty, and sometimes a little flirty…
2) Were the road ahead the way to go, I’d know. North, south, east or west, take the one that you know best.
About Mama:
From my father, Chuck Hill:
I never did get to have was bad mother in law stories. She was the best one anyone could ever have!
From my sister, Jeffy:
Tonight i went to mama's house on riverside, stepping out of the car, and searching, pleading for a sign of mama. One last sign that she was watching over me, telling me she was fine - that i would be okay without her physically here. And i know she was there, with Papa, and her parents, and dogs, and long lost friends in the background. And this is what i felt while there ....
oh mama - where have you gone
i see you up in the treetops so tall
so little - no, not anymore
lofty and lengthy, in size you have shifted
but in heart, no in heart, you are pure
helping us to stay lifted
my heart breaks for you
with the passing of a bird
a line of script
or a fallen leaf
but i know - i do know -
that you are here in the beat of a wing
in the words on a card
in the shape of a leaf
and in my heart always.
oh mama - where have you gone
i see you up in the treetops so tall
so little - no, not anymore
lofty and lengthy, in size you have shifted
but in heart, no in heart, you are pure
helping us to stay lifted
my heart breaks for you
with the passing of a bird
a line of script
or a fallen leaf
but i know - i do know -
that you are here in the beat of a wing
in the words on a card
in the shape of a leaf
and in my heart always.
From my Italian friend, Roberta:
She'll always be in your hearts with her love. She was really a perfect grandma, she lived 92 years so she has been very lucky, she was a strong, fant- spec- amaz- wond- woman and you are surely proud of her!
From my caring boyfriend, Adam, who my grandmother adored:
...this is the responsibility of the living to the deceased. As it is now the responsibility of my girlfriend and her family to remember “Mama’s” love of art, her appreciation of dance, and, of course, the way her face would light up anytime the words “Hershey’s chocolate bar” were mentioned.
On Grandmas:
Rabbi Eric H. Yoffie:
I can do this: I set aside some time to reflect about her life and her accomplishments, about her love for her family, and about how much of what I have become derives from who she was. And I think about those who are important in my life whom I have been neglecting. And I call them.
Tobin Belzer:
...hearing about her family’s lives became a substitute for her own. She spent her days sitting and reading in her living room, doing crossword puzzles and talking to her children and grandchildren...I’ve continued to think of my life as a narrative I’m writing for her. That’s how I’m keeping her spirit alive.
