Personality and Style, Ruby Lea Taylor Morse

May 11, 2014 — mom, mother, Ruby Lea Taylor Morse

I was raised by party animals who also had a very strict sense of discipline for children. There was a substantial conflict of interest, but it was the 1950’s when conflict, cold war, and paranoia were in fashion.  My mother was a housewife who worked all the time in her house and garden to create an impressive environment.  She garden clubbed, bridge clubbed, and PTA’d.  She made herself matching pill box hats for her outfits, and generally tried to make the perfect impression.  Since I was part of that public impression I had to be dressed and groomed in ways that I found to be truly abhorrent.  I struggled to free myself from the little white sock dress code and, most of all, from permanents in my hair, until I was about 10.  My parents meant no harm, and today I can thank them for teaching me at a very early age the value of rebellion.  They were progressive for their era.  They just never thought their era would come to an end.

Ruby Lea Taylor was an orphan from Humble Texas who married my dad and escaped poverty.  She never intended to look back or return to her roots.  She visited her siblings, but retained distance both geographically and philosophically.  She was ready to go anywhere at a moment’s notice, and adventured into anything my father proposed.  They were world travelers and jet setters before there were jets.  I always thought my parents were heavily repressive when I was at home, but in retrospect I know they came a long way, baby.  They even tuned in turned on (with alcohol) and dropped out in the 60’s to travel around the Caribbean.  They surprised me when they moved to Texas so my father could take up computer science before there was really any computer science.  Ruby was a pioneer environmentalist while my father was busy perfecting fracking.  She had a very green thumb, and followed first lady Ladybird into the Clean Up America campaign.  Her love of gardens, botany, and flowers lasted a lifetime.  When she was near the end of her life she adored spending time in her garden, and all other gardens.  She died at home in Tucson, right around the corner from where I live now. The college aged girls who live in her house now told me they have a ghost, and that she is friendly. They say she likes to dance and party.  That would definitely be my mother.  I am pleased she has those college girls to keep her entertained.  She doesn’t visit us because we are probably not lively enough for her.