Writers Tricks of the Trade Volume 6, Issue 5 | Page 15
Life Stories
A STORY ABOUT ADVICE
DIANE TAYLOR
For most of my life I have been a corporate communicator, a writer. When I
retired, one of my friends suggested I write a novel. Certainly not. My life has not
been exciting enough to do that. But I can tell true stories. This is one of them. It’s
called “Advice”.
The two best pieces of advice my mother gave me regarding a future SPOUSE
were (1) always know a man through all the seasons. (The physique that looks so
good at the beach might NOT be able to hold a conversation on a long winter
night.) And (2), marry a Jewish man; their MOTHERS raise great husbands.
It took me a while, but I did marry a Jewish man. I did know him through all the
seasons. And I have to agree, my husband’s mother, Ethel, was some kind of
teacher.
Ethel was a good cook. My husband is a wonderful cook. Ethel had a lovely
sense of humor; my husband is great fun. Ethel taught her sons to take orders. I
“occasionally” give orders myself. Ethel was thrifty; she didn’t miss a sale or a
coupon. My husband is very thrifty.
That’s good because I’m not so thrifty. My husband does most of the grocery
shopping for us. (He LIKES it.) On the occasion when I do shop, he actually asks me
how much I paid for particular items. I don’t know. “Let me see the receipt,” he
asks. “Oh that. I think I used it to clean off the windshield,” I say. Right then, I know
my husband is sending a secret message to his mother in heaven. “You were right,
mom; I should never have married a Presbyterian.”
One time, my husband’s mother actually had an impact—from the grave. Like I
said, Ethel could give orders. As she became increasingly frail, she told her two sons
that if she passed away, she definitely wanted to be buried in the particular pretty
pink dress that her late husband always admired.
Following orders, after Ethel went into a nursing home, one of her two sons
always had the pink dress ready and waiting. If my husband were out of town, his
brother had the dress; if his brother were on vacation, my husband had the dress.
Ultimately, sadly, Ethel passed away long after most of her friends and family. She
had, therefore, pre-paid for graveside services only. My husband dutifully delivered
the pink dress to the funeral home.
A private closed-casket burial was held on a beautiful afternoon in Chicago. At
the end of the ceremony, a man from the funeral home quietly gave my husband a
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