I’ve meant to write this blog since March 23, when Elizabeth Taylor died. Other things kept happening, though, including Tim spending five days in the hospital, and I wavered as time went by. However I have treated myself to a late afternoon cup of coffee and feel a little more inspired now…
My perception of my mom while I was growing up was that she was a very reserved and private person, even with her daughters. It frustrated me that she never seemed to want to share her deepest thoughts with me. Most of my understanding of her inner life came to me in different ways after she died, and I have felt more connected to her since her death.
But I do have to admit that some things she said and did flew right by me as I was so focused on what I imagined she would share that I missed many little things she did share. One of these things was a connection she felt with Elizabeth Taylor.
I’m guessing it might have been around 1966, when I was nine years old and when Taylor’s movie, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? came out. There must have been a lot of buzz about it because I remember asking my mother, who is Elizabeth Taylor?
Mom explained that Elizabeth Taylor was a very famous movie star who was only four months younger that she was and that she “grew up” with her. She said National Velvet was her favorite movie and that she first saw it when she was 12 years old.
My own comparisons go a little further. My mother (as a child at right) was also named Elisabeth, but she spelled it with an “s.” Her coloring was similar, jet black hair and full dark eyebrows. Mom’s eyes were brown, though, but she was just as beautiful. As grownups, they could not have been more different, Taylor leading a glamorous lifestyle and Mom a down-to-earth nature and animal lover.
Somehow I have never gotten around to watching National Velvet. Taylor’s death jogged my memory and so I added the film at the top of my Netflix list, but I guess there’s a bit of a wait because other movies keep coming ahead of it. When it finally arrives I will enjoy watching it and imagining what it meant to my mother sixty-seven long years ago.
Image source: People
B,
I read this yesterday and found your story interesting. How you have connected to your mother through her history, rather than through her living life. I understand the process, and I find it touching…
Jeff
Thank you, Jeff… It’s amazing the connections that can be made in spite of time and space…
Barbara, by your description, “down-to-earth nature and animal lover,” I can tell that I would really enjoy your mother!
I have a feeling she would have enjoyed your company, Laurie, as she also practiced tai chi!
Thank you for sharing your thoughts about your mother and Elizabeth Taylor. I loved the way you wove them together. I wonder how much we can ever know about another person… Such a sweet beautiful blog.
Thank you, Kathy. I appreciate your thoughts because I hemmed and hawed about posting this one. As Mark Twain wrote…
“What a wee little part of a person’s life are his acts and his words! His real life is led in his head, and is known to none but himself.”
Lovely post, Barbara.
Hugs.
Thank you, Val. (big hug!)
what a lovely post! quite touching
Thank you, Laura!
The relationship between mothers and daughters is so intricate, so complex, and yet so intriguing. Nice post.
Thank you… Mother-daughter relationships are indeed as you say, and always evolving, too, even after the physical bond is separated…
Hi Barbara,
Lovely post. I have seen National Velvet a few times and I’m sure you will love it.
That is a beautiful photo of your Mum as a child. Sometimes it can be great to back through old photo’s, they can make us smile, and some will make us sad, but it’s the memories that they hold that are always very dear to us.
Thank you… I’m still waiting for Netflix, but now I’m thinking perhaps I should buy a copy if it’s available. It would be nice to have on hand when my thoughts turn to my mom…
Old photos are bittersweet, helping us to remember and reflect as we go through our lives and our perspective changes… Our understanding of our parents’ lives changes as we get older ourselves.