Virginia Agnes Greeno

Memories of My Mother

by Charline (Greeno) Hutton

09 Apr 2002

My mother [Virginia Agnes (Hannan) Greeno] was never physically strong or healthy, but she was always a cheerful person. She took a streetcar every day to her telephone company job. It happened that my father, Lewis La Verne Greeno, was employed as the streetcar driver. They saw, they met, they dated, fell in love, and married in 1928. I was born that year. My father's sister told me she never saw any two people more in love or able to have so much fun together. They were always laughing and happy. My oldest brother, Lewis La Verne, Jr., was born soon after, followed by Bill, then Dave.

My mother was not able to work, having four young children to care for, and times were tough for them. My father started working for the Public Service Company of Colorado. He made better money but was gone a lot of the time installing electric poles and wiring (the first) in Loveland and Nederland, Colorado.

When I was eight years old (1936), my parents separated and were divorced. It was at that time that we moved in with Granddad and Grandma Hannan. My mother was a very proud person and disliked living with her parents and depending on them. Also, there was the disciplinary problem with too many people "telling her children" what to do. She was very unhappy at this time of her life, but made the best of it, as she always did and would continue to do. I think she missed my father terribly. I can remember hearing her crying at night. My grandmother never thought my father was good enough for her "Baby" and never tried to hide it in his presence. We were all Catholics and my father was not, and he had been married before and divorced. That, and my father's drinking, was a contributing factor to their divorce.

My mother was such a lot of fun. She and June Hill became good friends, as well as aunt and niece. They would go to the midnight show on Saturdays and talk on the phone just like girlfriends. The three of us used to go roller skating, also. It was nothing for my mother to decide she wanted chocolate cake right now, and get up and bake one at midnight! She and June would then enjoy a piece of cake and a couple of cups of coffee while giggling like two schoolgirls. June made my mother's life joyous!

My mother couldn't sew or do any kind of needlework, but she could darn sox like you wouldn't believe. They were a real work of art. My mother was also a good cook and could make a meal out of nothing. She loved her coffee—in the mornings and in the evenings after supper. She tried to smoke cigarettes, but decided she looked ridiculous and didn't like the taste, so never did again.

When we were growing up, she was very loving and tender through all of the childhood diseases, skinned knees, mean kids at school, etc. The five of us always had fun and plenty of love to go around. She had allergies and hay fever, was subject to migraines, and caught cold easily; but she never failed to get up and see us off to school every day. My father came back when I was fifteen, and my parents remarried when I was sixteen. That time it lasted for 3-1/2 years before they separated for the final time.

It soon became clear to me that something was wrong with my mother. After a time, I convinced her to see a doctor. She was admitted to Colorado General Hospital (now the University of Colorado Health Sciences Center), and it took them two weeks to diagnose multiple sclerosis. The disease affected her below the waist, but not her arms or eyes. My brothers and I took turns caring for her in our homes. Also, Aunt Marion came to live with her in an apartment. I wasn't married yet, so I took her with me until she needed full-time professional care. Because I had to work, the only option for my mother by that time was a nursing home.

My mother was a pretty woman with the light gray-blue eyes, creamy complexion, and black hair so typical of the Irish. Most outstanding was her sunny disposition and personality. Everybody loved her. She would sit in her wheelchair and laugh at something silly that she or someone else had said. She died at age 55, way too soon for someone so full of life and love. A friend once said of her: "She is the closest thing to an angel I'll ever see." And she was.