The Bold and the Beautiful
My mother finally gave me that photo of my sister and I. A photo take on Halloween 1969. Eileen was soon to turn 5 and I was 6. We both have vivid memories of this photo and of the costumes we wore that Halloween. We’ve described these costumes so many times, to so many people. Though we girls are the subjects in this photo, it really tells us more about our mom. We were the anomalies on the street, in our school, in our extended family, for having a mom who worked outside the home.
In those days most moms were stay-at-home. Mom was a nurse and most often worked weekend and night shifts, this way saving on the cost and hassle of daycare and babysitting. She worked when dad was home. This also allowed our parents to share the one family car, their working hours never overlapping. I have memories of my mom coming home around breakfast time on Sundays, after her second 12 hour night shift that weekend, sitting on the bottom step of our staircase, a little tired and despondent while eating a half grapefruit. I loved her nurse’s uniform, crisp and white, especially the cap nurses wore at the time; she looked so professional and important. My dad’s job on those Sundays was to keep four rambunctious kids occupied til at least noon, while my mother tried to catch up on sleep. Easier said than done.
In the photo I am wearing a sheet, encircled with a sash of sorts made from an old curtain, and a crown fashioned from cardboard and tinfoil. I am a princess. Eileen is wearing a laundry bag and perched precariously on her head is an empty detergent box, 27 cents BOLD, to be precise. She is a walking bag of laundry. Mom had crafted these costumes haphazardly within minutes before our trick or treating. We look positively delighted in our ridiculous getups. Eileen recalls it rained that night, causing the box of BOLD to dribble foamy soap suds into her eyes and ears. I do not recall this detail, likely due to the fact that my tinfoil crown was picking up confusing extraterrestrial communications. Memories differ. Regardless, while we kids often felt deprived of the creature comforts stay-at-home moms seemed to provide, such as really fancy costumes, we have come to feel pure gratitude for what my mom did for us.
