If she were still alive, today my mother would have been 99 years old. I’ve been thinking a lot about her during the last few months of shelter in place due to Covid-19. For most of her working life, Eva was a public health nurse in San Francisco. Whenever she took public transportation — which she only did after she gave up driving well into her 70s — she was concerned about dirt and germs and she always would wear gloves. When I would see her after a trip on Muni or BART, she would show me how filthy the gloves had gotten on her travels.
Happily for me, my mom had a collection of lightweight leather gloves that I have been using each time I leave the house, so she continues to take care of me.
For most of her life, my mother had very little expectation of being important enough to be noticed. I only know of two times when my mother was made to feel special: her “sweet 16” birthday, although I imagine that’s not what it was called in Vienna, and “Eva Goldsmith Appreciation Day”, a surprise party I gave her when she was 70 — I wasn’t able to throw it near her actual birthday but did so 6 months later so it was a real surprise. I don’t think I ever saw her as happy as she was on that day, surrounded by family and friends.
On Eva’s 16th birthday in Vienna. She is seated on the right. Behind the girls is a pastel drawing of Helene, which Eva and Harry brought to the US and hang in my mother’s house throughout her life.
Taken at the surprise party I threw for my mother. You can see the expression of complete joy and surprise at being the center of attention for one of the few times in her life.