Dorothy Thompson

Dorothy Thompson, My Mimi

My Mom’s mom left quite an impression on me. How do you describe someone and catch their essence?  It is so much easier to feel who they are by seeing them on video.  However, that wasn’t available in those days so I’ll just have to tell you about her.  For all the admiration I had for her, I learned from my Mom that she wasn’t totally motherly, if at all.  But that aside for now, I’ll tell  you what I thought.  

She was very pretty.  As far as I could remember her, she had thick, white, white hair, always perfectly coiffed. She was extremely feminine and carried her petite frame with dignity and class.  I thought she walked like she was treading on raw eggs.  So gentle.  And Mimi was very intelligent.  She could engage in good conversation, but she did not curse.  One day I said, ’damn’ and she cried.  Her profession was Social Director at big hotels like Chaffant Hadden Hall Hotel in Atlantic City.  Her marriage to a Hotel Manager lasted for 15 years and ended in divorce, which was outrageous in those days. She never remarried. Her husband, my Mom’s dad, died with cancer at 46. He was a heavy smoker and that  must have contributed to his demise.

Mimi was an excellent bridge player.  We were impressed when someone in the 50’s bid $100 on her hand!  Our love for cards comes from her for sure, but the gift didn’t come with it, unfortunately.

Mimi retired in Ottawa and lived in an apartment with her old friend, Nel Rae, on Somerset near Elgin in Ottawa.  It was an old Victorian house which has since been torn down and replaced with condos. I visited her often there.    

At the end of  her life, she got dementia. She was in the hospital for a while and I used to visit her on the way to my job as a bunny at a night club.  I carried with me a little Samsonite suitcase for my bunny outfit.  When she saw the suitcase, she would insist I stay over. I’d counter that she didn’t have a bed.  I think she thought she was in a hotel and I could get a room or at least a bed.  She’d reply she had a hide-a-bed.  I’d ask ‘Where is it?’ and she would say, ‘You can’t see it, it’s so well hidden.’  She was so cute.  One time her nighty strap fell over her shoulder.  She coyly cooed, ‘That’ll be 25 cents please.’

She died within 2 years at the age of 66. She was well missed.

All my grandparents died of smoking related illness:  Mimi with artereol-schlerosis, her husband, cancer, my Dad’s dad, Herbie, with emphysema and my Dad’s mom, Grammy,  with a heart attack. None of them saw 70.  Their 3 boys outlived them by a long shot:  John presently 92, (2015) Shaun 78, and Ian passed at 87 in 2011.