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Beverly Hills Gothic
Above
In 1944 Birdene received an award for her volunteer work in the Civil Service during World War II.
Opposite
My mother, in her early twenties.
RETIREMENT IN BEVERLY HILLS
We found the Beverly Hills Carmel Retirement Hotel nearby
on Burton Way. It was a new, well-furnished place that offered three meals a day and complete maid service. A nice social life was possible, but Birdene was too depressed to make friends. She complained she knew people who lived with their children, who weren’t selfish like we were.
I found a wonderful young psychiatrist who prescribed lithium to help control my mother. This was the first medication that seemed to work for her, plus Birdene liked the doctor, who often complimented her. The lithium, however, was unreliable. A dose that worked one day might turn her into a “zombie” the next. I made sure the housekeepers gave her the medication every day, but my mother never made friends and stopped going to Gardena, so she was usually depressed. Sonny and I often took Birdene to the movies and out to dinner, but nothing was ever enough because she only wanted to live with us. She always felt rejected. I chose my husband, and even though I have pangs of guilt, I think I made the right choice.
FAREWELL, BIRDENE
On January 17, 1979, in the middle of the night, the telephone rang. It was the woman who owned the Carmel Retirement Hotel telling me quietly that she had some bad news. “Your mother had a big stroke tonight, and I am very sorry to tell you that she passed away.”It was such a shock! Sonny and I got up and were ready to go to the hotel, but the woman said the paramedics had taken my mother and she was beyond saving. I wanted to see her, but the paramedic I spoke with said, “You don’t want to see her. She fell against the wall and died immediately. Try to remember the way she looked the last time you saw her.”
The next morning, Sonny and I went to the retirement hotel and picked out a dress for her to wear for the funeral. It was the one she wore to Pepper’s wedding. When we saw my mother before the service, she looked peaceful and pretty. We were still in shock at the funeral. It was so sudden!
Above
I still have one of my mother’s crystal bowls, which reminds me of the happy times when we lived on Hayworth Avenue and I was young and she was not yet ill.