My mother Frances Oakes was a master quilter.  She did such fine stitchwork front and back that you would never see a missed stitch or loose thread.  She did embroidery and all manner of fine sewing, which she learned, from my grandmother, Teresa Trapasso, after whom I was named.

            She was a master pie baker and made dozens of pies at Thanksgiving starting at the age of 12. She taught me how to make a pie when I got married and gave me a special knife which I still use whenever I make a pie.  We also would spend a couple of days in August in the basement of her house canning pears and tomatoes.  We would have baskets and baskets of pears from our two heirloom pear trees. We had wonderful times peeling and cutting and experimenting with different ways to can a jar of pears. We would be so proud to look at all of our jars before we divided them up and I took my share home.

            She was a very patient and kind teacher, unlike my father who was too volatile to give any instruction.  She had to teach me to back the car up when I took driver ed because my father got too impatient with me and actually would make me cry.

            She and I would always have great times going to museums.  It was always fun to go with her and her good friend Genevieve Hawkins. And we would sometimes go out drawing together. She took painting lessons with my Aunt Elizabeth from a nun, Sister Rosalie, at the convent on Park Street. 

            Sister Rosalie brought Elizabeth and Frances to Rockport for a week- long oil painting workshop with the famous artist Helen Van Wyk. That workshop so inspired my mother that she insisted I go with her to take another one with her. I can’t say that the week of sharing the same bedroom with her was that much fun since she always wanted the windows closed, and I wanted them open. It WAS August, but we were on the first floor and she was sure someone would break into our room if we had the windows open.

            But the week changed my life forever.  I met my mentor Helen Van Wyk and because of her teaching methods, I was able to study art until finally my husband told me to leave nursing and pursue a career in art.

            My mother then attended weekly classes in oil painting with me at my studio in Cromwell. We had some wonderful times in those classes; and we were both photographed by Don and had an article in  the artist magazine Pallette Talk.  On Meigs Point at Hammonasset.  she  posed for me on the beach on a great and beautiful summer day.  My mother brought art into my life, and I am grateful for that ever more.

            She loved to study nature, wild birds and geology. She collected rocks like

“I Love Lucy”. She loved wild flowers and herb gardens, and we often went to Adelma Simmons’s Caprilands Herb Farm.

            She had a wonderful library of books in our home, and growing up I would just have to go our library to find a good classic or reference book. She loved setting a pretty table and cooking foods from different cultures. I am grateful for the grace, elegance and refinement that she brought into my life. All of these things that she loved, I love, too.

            When she was dying at the Hebrew Home I told her that Pope Francis said that all animals will be in heaven, and I read off the list of animals we had: Mitzi, Tinkerbell, Daisy Dog, Chicken Little, Kitty Kat, and said you can go now and they will all be there. She said to me  “Tinkerbell, Tinkerbell” and kissed my hand.