A Mom Called Dot

My two brothers and three sisters idolized our mother. She could do no wrong in our eyes.

      She was beautiful, kind, thoughtful and seemingly tireless.

      People couldn’t keep up with her.

      “Dot,” people would say, “what is your secret? You never stop. With all those kids and all your volunteer work, how do you do it?” 

Mom would just smile.

    And she was the best cook in the world. And what a baker! She could bake the best snickerdoodle, chocolate chip or peanut butter cookies on the planet. When we got home from school and stepped inside the house, it always smelled like Mr. Drury’s professional bakery downtown. Mom’s cookies were the best.

      When we got old enough, our friends would ask to stay for dinner because her pot roast and gravy were to die for and she always had homemade biscuits that were all drippy with butter and would melt in your mouth.

Mom just seemed tireless. Other mothers sent us kids home after a couple of hours of play. But my Mom let us have as many of our friends stay for as long as they wanted.   

The six of us always had lots of friends who wanted to stay over. Mom always made sure there was plenty of food for everyone, family or friends or just drop-ins that sat around our boisterous dinner table.

      She attended every single PTA meeting that the school set up. One of us six kids was always getting into some sort of trouble. But Mom always fixed things with the teacher and would admonish us when she got home in a way that we never stepped out of line again – well, for a while, anyway.

      She was always there at night to help us with our homework. No matter what the science topic or biology diffusion question or “where the heck is Reykjavik” geography question, Mom somehow always knew the right answer. 

My oldest brother loved math and he always seemed to have to solve mathematical models for Calculus and Mom could always get the right answer and explain it to him in ways the teachers never could. 

We could ask her anything on any school subject and she always had a very logical answer that always made sense. She was a walking encyclopedia.

All six of us got through school with good grades because of our Mom.    

One day, when the city announced they were going to tear down the old post office building downtown, Mom was right there arguing that the whole city block should be declared historic and should be saved. 

And she did the research on the buildings in that block and proved they met the criteria for historical preservation. The city fathers couldn’t match my M

Mom’s tenacity and knowledge for issues she believed in!

Somehow, she always found time to volunteer at the nursing home, as well as the local animal shelter, too.

She had a knack for singling out the most gentle rescue dog and taking the dog to the nursing home to visit with the patients there. 

The sweet dogs always seemed to calm the residents and make them happy to see Mom and her rescue dog-of-the-day. Mom even got an honorary award from the city for all the civic and philanthropic activities she performed year-after-year.

She expanded her volunteer activities to include working at the soup kitchen downtown and serving the homeless Thanksgiving dinner. Of course, this was after she made a three-course Thanksgiving dinner for all of us kids first. 

When we got old enough, she would take us with her to the homeless shelter to help others and to show us how fortunate we were. Point taken, Mom!

Because we kids were “stair steps,” one after the other, one was graduating from high school and one was going on to college advancing toward an undergraduate degree.

Somehow, Mom made sure we didn’t have to take out student loans. She always seemed to have each semester paid for in advance - no reams of college aid FAFSA paperwork for us!

Before we all knew it, all six of us rowdy kids were graduated from college. Two of my sisters and one of my brothers all went on to receive their master’s degrees.

My oldest brother, who was a real nerd, got his Ph.D. in mathematics, thanks to all of Mom’s tutoring in Trigonometry and Calculus. All paid for, of course. No student loans to pay back. Thank goodness for Mom.

Even after all of us kids left home and Mom was an empty nester, she continued to volunteer for causes and organizations she believed in, like the Boys and Girls Clubs, the ASPCA and the American Red Cross.

And somehow, we got older, but Mom never seemed to age. She maintained her good looks and energy, even as we kids grew up, got married and started families of our own.

Mom was then a wonderful grandmother to all her grandkids that loved the same things about her – her great cooking and yummy baking and her up-to-date knowledge of the world.

And the grandkids grew up the way we did, asking grandma every kind of homework question under the sun, and she had the correct answer without fail. Her encyclopedic mind knew no end.

Then one day, my youngest sister went over to Mom’s house. My sister and her husband were going to a black tie dinner and sis wanted to borrow Mom’s gorgeous string of pearls.

My sister knocked on Mom’s front door, but there was no answer.  Not unusual, sis just thought Mom was out at one of her volunteer duties, so she used her key to let herself in.

“Mom, are you home?” my sister called out. No answer.

So my sister went upstairs to Mom’s bedroom and came upon a horrifying sight. Mom was lying face up on her bed and there was an odd whirring sound emanating from her.

“Mom! Are you alright?” called out my sister. Mom didn’t answer. Her eyes were open and staring straight ahead and they were glassy and not blinking. She made one statement, “Call all your brothers and sisters now,” she sputtered.

My sister got on her cell phone and quickly called each of us in turn. We always answered each other’s calls, no matter what. We were very close.

Sis implored us to come to Mom’s house right away. Something was wrong with her. Something was terribly wrong and to come now!

As each of us arrived one at a time, we ran up to Mom’s bedroom. And she was just lying there on the bed prone and stiff, just as my sister had described.

And once we were all assembled there, Mom started to talk.

She admonished us not to speak or say a word until she was finished.

She seemed to start at the beginning. She recounted how she obtained each of us kids. Yes, she used the word “obtained.” And she said she did not have or need a husband, that’s why she never mentioned a father to us kids. 

Growing up, we all just seemed to understand that we didn’t know who our father was and Mom was such a commanding presence in our lives that we never even asked. Mom recounted the joys of each of us growing up, all our escapades, all her cooking and baking and volunteer work, and school and college. 

Now that we had kids of our own, she told us to make sure we passed on her love and knowledge to each of them as well.

Mom started to make an odd sound that did not really sound like a cough. It sounded like an electrical hiss.

And suddenly Mom said in what can best be described as a mechanical voice, “Before I go, please know that I loved you all just as if you were my own, from my own circuits. Once I am used up and no longer needed, I will expire.”

“I am Dot,” she managed to sputter.

Dot was a perfect Mom.

Dot was a perfect role model.

Dot was a perfect robot.