Alabaster Mom

Her first name was Hedwig, but everyone called her by her middle name, which was Elaine. She was of German lineage, with solid bones, fine blonde hair (she ran out of ways to make it look thicker, I think), and cornflower blue eyes. When I was a kid, I loved to go to her house in Arlington (VA) and look at her wedding photos, which lived in a leather-bound photo album that sat flat on the bottom shelf of an end table. She was the most beautiful bride I had ever seen (in all of my nine years). Picture 1950s glamour and perfectly-applied lipstick. She was divorced before I ever met her, but the wedding photos were still around. Elaine was the kindest person I ever knew, and I never heard her say a negative word about any person. Except one (and even then she kinda took the high road and held her tongue). Elaine raised three children. The man who would become my stepdad was her firstborn, followed by Diana and then Janet. She was a public health nurse, and I think her job in the community...

The photos worried me the most. Some were laid out neatly in old-school albums, peeking out from the plastic film covers that were carefully smoothed over them decades ago. Others floated around in drawers and closets. They told the story of a family - a family that knew happiness and brokenness almost in equal measure. Summer trips to Myrtle Beach. My prom (and wedding!). Cats - so. many. cats. Me and my sisters in Halloween costumes. My mom, looking glamorous in virtually every shot of her. My Pop (AKA stepdad) looking into the camera and holding up his hands in such a way that I can almost hear him uttering one of his catchphrases: "Outstanding!"  I arrived in Oklahoma two weeks after my mother's death. I had two goals for the trip: clean the house (as much as I could, anyway) and bring one of my mom's cats back home with me. I'd spent years fretting over her tendency to take in strays. We used to joke about inheriting cats and now here we are. I can really onl...