Once A Year

In which I remember a one of a kind person.

Hi everyone; it’s Tuesday night, election night, and I’m proud to say I haven’t paid any attention to the news the past six days. It feels GREAT. The world could be collapsing all around me but I wouldn’t know. I’ve been thinking about other people besides politicians.

Specifically, I’ve been thinking about my mom- because today is her birthday. Ruth Emerson Jones was born this day, November 8, in 1933 in East Orange, New Jersey, the youngest daughter of Arthur Harrison Jones and Gertrude Von Bergen. Born in New Jersey and raised in North Carolina, my mom had a distinct southern accent and southern mannerisms. She wrote notes to people on their birthdays. She had kind words to say about everyone she met. She could bullshit talk with people for hours.

Mom in her salad days.

Mom was big on family and family history. She could tell you all about her ancestors, including Ralph Waldo Emerson. She knew where they were from, what they did, how they helped shape our country.

She adored her father Art and my father Jack. She always took a back seat to my father, who was well known and celebrated- he got the glory, while she did all the work.

Mom at Pentes Design, the company she ran for over 30 years, in 1972.

Mom was the one who cooked the meals, cared for the children, paid the bills, and kept the house from being foreclosed on. She made sure we got a good education, kept up our connections in the community, and always made the right decision. When I wanted to attend acting school she talked me out of it and made sure I majored in English at UNC. I protested vigorously, but it was the best decision she forced upon me. Today I cherish my years there and the business partner I met there, who is my partner and friend to this day.

Mom putting up with my bullshit early on.

Mom took the hits to the family and the business. She ran my grandmother’s affairs after her father died; she ran Pentes Design as its Vice President for over three decades, making the smart business decisions that kept the company afloat and the bills paid. She dealt with the lawyers, the accountants, the vendors, the employees, while my father created the work they would sell.

Mom with Dad in a Pentes Design company photo, C. 1966 or so.

Mom dealt with heartache-her sister died an alcoholic and my grandmother needed constant care. She and my sister had a huge falling out when I was about 26, but she never stopped loving and supporting Danna. She supported my crazy artistic impulses, never once questioning my path or telling me to get a real job.

Mom loved her employees- and they loved her. She was a confidant and champion for them; she and my father paid good salaries and full benefits, including health insurance, to all their staff.

Mom and Dad at Pentes Design, c. 1996.

Mom busted her ass to keep her company afloat and her family thriving. And it all worked, all of it. She ran the race and she won.

I loved her. Even in her worst moments, her hardest times, I loved her. As she got older and dementia robbed her sanity, she was harder and harder to deal with. But I still loved her. My last memories are not the best; the best are her reading Uncle Wiggly to me at bedtime, cleaning my scraped knees, pulling me out of the pond the time I almost drowned, showing up at my theatrical productions and film screenings, and taking us hunting for arrowheads.

Hunting for arrowheads with Mom, c. 1973.

So today is her birthday. In my mind this day will always belong to her. Happy Birthday, Ruth Emerson Jones Pentes. You are one of a kind.