Church keys opening Shasta flavored pops. Little theaters, museums and fine arts. Stainless steel counters with built-in stove tops. School clothes filling up shopping carts. Historic sites, parades, and homecoming teams. After school -- the Stooges, cartoons on television starts. Barnaby, Captain Penny, Jingle-ling, Holiday themes.
A Baby Grand piano, trumpet, banjo, drums, and guitar. Sterling silver, Bunnykins, Royal Daulton figurines. Screwdrivers. Cigarettes. Makeup. Jelly Jars. Time, Life, and Look Magazines. Board games. Sparkling wine. Martinis. Chanel Number 5. Steak and SauSea cocktail shrimp at dinner in the pantry nook. The remarkable and mystical Edgewater Drive. Do your homework. Kitchen is closed. You know I hate to cook.
Backyard sunning for a Coppertone tan. Extensions a plenty -- never far from a phone. Reading a book and drinking a Coke from a can. In the Wonderful World of Ohio you're never alone. Cedar Point, Sandusky, a Summer cottage rental. The Football Hall of Fame, Mystery Hill and Firestone; Buckle up and away we go in the Lincoln Continental. But first, "No ice cream in the car. Finish your cone." Ordinary things, of which we become sentimental.
"I'll do anything for you kids -- as long as you remember." Silver goblets, meat loaf, tuna casserole, chicken soup, Hough Bakery cakes from Spring until September. On a continuous loop. The birthdays, they come and they go. We remember the routine and the ordinary. How did she know? A life lived and a life extraordinary.
Read, enunciate, project, pronounce. Improvise the method. The talent is a fact. Study, debate, articulate, and announce. You must believe, if you think you can act. There are no small roles. You'll stand out among the rest. Listen to the words and listen well, "Oh honey, you always know what's best." When to pause, when to gesture, you cal always tell. To dream the impossible dream.
Everything is rehearsed -- scene by scene. Coffee cup and saucer -- Black. No sugar. No Cream. The play is a hit, but what does it mean? Acting, directing, and winning your heart. The final curtain. Bravo! The audience approves without pause. Good to know but not a surprise. Prepare and be ready for your cue. Face each day. The show must go on. You know exactly what to do. House lights go up and suddenly you are gone.
We are an ensemble cast. We knew that one day, the performance would be your last. You were great mom, it was your way. On to the future, with regard for the past. The show will go on. Thanks mom.
We will go on.
Mary Frances Lawton Morgan passed away on May 31, 2011. She was 89 years of age.