Eleanor Mary Oliver nee Hunter. My mother.

contents page  After the divorce   Frankie's story  marriage   california baby  site map  

My mother was said to be very beautiful.

She told us that when she was young she had looked much more sexy than she felt.

As I remember my mother's story, she met my father in Cambridge, when she was visiting her brother as his partner for a College Ball. My father Leslie was working for Kodak, getting ready to be a self-made man. They all joined a radical group of left wing pacifists  (My sister Frankie heard this differently, and my Uncle Muir had more details when I contacted him)

My mother used to tell us stories of her life again and again: it seemed like dusty history to me and I forgot or misremembered them. Frankie on the other hand remembers them vividly and accurately - accurately in the sense that she remembers what she was told. Some were clearly embellished or not totally true.

I can see now that those memories must have been vivid and poignant for my mother, given how things suddenly changed five years after she married.

I used towonder why she needed to tell us so much, and to tell us over and over again.When I look at her photos of their trip to Yosemite Valley and compare them to the real thing, I begin to get a sense of what she was trying to share with us. I was contemptuous, listening like a resentful prisoner to all her stories.

My own children know little of my early life. I'm happy with that. Perhaps one day they’ll want to know.