One Beautiful Couple

Well, here they are, my mom and dad.  In my first post I said my mom was the primary inspiration for our creating the kind of garden we did. She loved to garden when she was young. Perhaps if she could be with plants --  a garden --  her life would be more joyful.   Her illness changed her into another person.  The drugs and effects of the shock therapy took its toll. 

Mim and Al Hyde 
1939 in Pittsburgh, PA

Her persona was flat most of the time, on other occasions she seemed to revert back to the way I remember her, but most of the time life was a chore.

My twin brother, Jan, and I named our parents Digby and Mole, beloved names of endearment when we were in our teens. I have no idea where the names came from except in the case of my mom, she was always poking around in the dirt, like a mole. So maybe that's why we lovingly called her Mole. And she knew everything in so many people's lives, a nosy lady!  But caring, and loved.  Digby-- I can't figure out where we found this nickname. He sure was a Digby, though.

Digby was the first oral surgeon in Pittsburgh having learned his craft by buddying up with a surgeon.  In the days of this newly defined area of medicine, there was no coursework.  "Open wide for Dr. Hyde."  Digby was well-known,  respected and as a couple, Mim and Al used to entertain and have parties in their home on the outskirts of Pittsburgh. They were two people who made everyone feel good about life.

They married late with ten years between their ages so when they found out they were to have twins, what a surprise!  Jan and Judy, the Hyde twins. 

Remember those tin pumps the old timers used to fill with tobacco juice to ward off the bugs? I well remember my mom using this hand pump mostly around dinner in her halter and shorts, usually perspiration dripping from her cheeks, tanned by the sun. These were the days when it was not uncommon for three generations to reside in one home, in our case, my grandma and grandpa who were victims of the depression came to live with us when I was a baby. So my grandma was the cook, making time for my mom to be outside in the garden.

Keep in mind this photo, though, because here you see the beautiful woman, my mom full of energy, loving life, and for some reason when she married Harry, eight years after Digby died at the age of 68, she was never the same.  Or was the illness something that was hidden, a condition no one in the family thought was extraordinary or unusual.  Quirky?  Compulsive?

--Judy