
My mother, Eleanor (née Oman) Searls, would have been 111 today. She passed in ’03 at 90, but that’s not what matters.
What matters is that she was a completely wonderful human being: as good a mother, sister, daughter, cousin, friend, and teacher as you’ll find.
There is a long and warm Facebook thread that visits the subject of Mom as a third and fourth grade teacher in our hometown Maywood, New Jersey public school system (specifically, Maywood Avenue School). Students who inhabited her classes more than half a century ago remember her warmly and sing her praises. (Do this search on Facebook to find them in the Maywood Memories group.)
Once, sitting around a fire in the commune-like place where I lived north of Chapel Hill in the mid-’70s, discussion came around to “Who is the sanest person you know?” I said “My mother.” Others were shocked, I suppose because they had issues with their moms. But I didn’t. Couldn’t. She was too wise, good, and loving. (Also too smart, quick-witted, tough, and unswayed by bullshit.)
Perhaps I’m idealizing too much. She had flaws, I’m sure. But not today.
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