When I returned to work after Mother’s Day, I asked my hard-working, ever-present boss if she took time off to visit her mom.
“Let me recount,” she began.
“My mother’s turned into this little old lady. She never used to be, but all of a sudden she is.”
We were joined by another co-worker, who asked the same question, but added, “I wasn’t sure you were having such a great time when you called and said you’d rather be at the Mother’s Day Brunch,” which, of course, meant she’d rather be AT WORK.
Kris returned to her dissertation.
“Mom’s got her routine. She gets up, has breakfast, putters around, sits down in her recliner for a morning nap, wakes up, has lunch, putters some more, THEN lays down in the bed around 3:00 for an afternoon nap, wakes up, putters again and is down for the night in front of the TV by 7:00 p.m.! She’s a sit-around-the-house person now and I’m just the opposite. I want to go somewhere, do something.”
“How old is she?” I inquire.
“She’s only 71,” Kris states in her most inconceivable voice.
I smile remembering how active my mother was at 71. She didn’t begin to slow down until shortly before her heart attack at age 86.
“It’s not like I get to go home that often. Needless to say, I want to go somewhere, do something fun especially with Mom. So I say, ‘Hey, Mom….wanna go shopping?’ She says, ‘Let me check my coupons. Honey, we can go to Kohl’s. I’ve got a 20% off.’ I’m like, Mom I don’t want to use your coupons. I want to go shopping with you. We can go ANYWHERE to ANY store.”
“At least she’s frugal,” I offer with a snicker.
“Yeah, frugal doesn’t come close. It’s that way with everything. But let me back up. You’ll love this. She quit smoking a couple of years ago, and by the way, that’s what’s wrong with her. Years of cigarettes took a toll on her heath. Anyhow, we’re at Kohl’s….because we’ve got ‘THE COUPON.’ I’m looking at clothes and suddenly I can’t find Mom. She doesn’t get around that well, so how far can she go, you know. I look all over the store, no Mom. So I check out front. There she is – outside. She’s bummed a cigarette from some little old man. They’re standing together just chattering away, puffing. I walk out and say, ‘Mom, what are you doing! Put that cigarette out! You quit, remember?’ ‘You weren’t supposed to find me,' she tells me.’”
Our co-worker, Tammy, chuckles nodding in agreement with the frustration of parent/child role reversal.
Without skipping a beat, Kris continued, “After we get home my sister calls. We’re expecting her any minute, but she says she won’t make it till 8:30 that evening. Well, you know what time that is….we’ve already bedded down in front of the TV, so I tell Mom, ‘I’ll take you to dinner around 5:30 – just the two of us. Where do you want to go?’ Next thing I know, she’s back digging in the coupon box looking for a restaurant coupon! Out she comes with Cheddars – of all places! It’s Houston for Pete’s sake, with all those wonderful dining experiences and she wants to go to Cheddars so we can use that blasted coupon.”
By that time, Tammy and I were in stitches over the word pictures Kris so eloquently painted.
I could just visualize her little ole’ mom puffing frantically in attempt to finish her smoke before getting caught.
“Too bad. Out of all the restaurants in Houston she could choose, your mom picks one you can eat at HERE anytime you want.”
“Yeah I know, and Mom’s always pulling something. I’ll bring food or go buy the fixins’ to make something special. I tell her what I’ve planned of course. I might get everything to do Eggs Benedict for breakfast, but I walk in the kitchen and there sits Mom eating a piece of toast. I’ll ask her about it and she says, ‘I didn’t want you to go to any trouble, or I’m not that hungry.’ I tell her, ‘MOM, I already WENT to the trouble!’"
“Let me recount,” she began.
“My mother’s turned into this little old lady. She never used to be, but all of a sudden she is.”
We were joined by another co-worker, who asked the same question, but added, “I wasn’t sure you were having such a great time when you called and said you’d rather be at the Mother’s Day Brunch,” which, of course, meant she’d rather be AT WORK.
Kris returned to her dissertation.
“Mom’s got her routine. She gets up, has breakfast, putters around, sits down in her recliner for a morning nap, wakes up, has lunch, putters some more, THEN lays down in the bed around 3:00 for an afternoon nap, wakes up, putters again and is down for the night in front of the TV by 7:00 p.m.! She’s a sit-around-the-house person now and I’m just the opposite. I want to go somewhere, do something.”
“How old is she?” I inquire.
“She’s only 71,” Kris states in her most inconceivable voice.
I smile remembering how active my mother was at 71. She didn’t begin to slow down until shortly before her heart attack at age 86.
“It’s not like I get to go home that often. Needless to say, I want to go somewhere, do something fun especially with Mom. So I say, ‘Hey, Mom….wanna go shopping?’ She says, ‘Let me check my coupons. Honey, we can go to Kohl’s. I’ve got a 20% off.’ I’m like, Mom I don’t want to use your coupons. I want to go shopping with you. We can go ANYWHERE to ANY store.”
“At least she’s frugal,” I offer with a snicker.
“Yeah, frugal doesn’t come close. It’s that way with everything. But let me back up. You’ll love this. She quit smoking a couple of years ago, and by the way, that’s what’s wrong with her. Years of cigarettes took a toll on her heath. Anyhow, we’re at Kohl’s….because we’ve got ‘THE COUPON.’ I’m looking at clothes and suddenly I can’t find Mom. She doesn’t get around that well, so how far can she go, you know. I look all over the store, no Mom. So I check out front. There she is – outside. She’s bummed a cigarette from some little old man. They’re standing together just chattering away, puffing. I walk out and say, ‘Mom, what are you doing! Put that cigarette out! You quit, remember?’ ‘You weren’t supposed to find me,' she tells me.’”
Our co-worker, Tammy, chuckles nodding in agreement with the frustration of parent/child role reversal.
Without skipping a beat, Kris continued, “After we get home my sister calls. We’re expecting her any minute, but she says she won’t make it till 8:30 that evening. Well, you know what time that is….we’ve already bedded down in front of the TV, so I tell Mom, ‘I’ll take you to dinner around 5:30 – just the two of us. Where do you want to go?’ Next thing I know, she’s back digging in the coupon box looking for a restaurant coupon! Out she comes with Cheddars – of all places! It’s Houston for Pete’s sake, with all those wonderful dining experiences and she wants to go to Cheddars so we can use that blasted coupon.”
By that time, Tammy and I were in stitches over the word pictures Kris so eloquently painted.
I could just visualize her little ole’ mom puffing frantically in attempt to finish her smoke before getting caught.
“Too bad. Out of all the restaurants in Houston she could choose, your mom picks one you can eat at HERE anytime you want.”
“Yeah I know, and Mom’s always pulling something. I’ll bring food or go buy the fixins’ to make something special. I tell her what I’ve planned of course. I might get everything to do Eggs Benedict for breakfast, but I walk in the kitchen and there sits Mom eating a piece of toast. I’ll ask her about it and she says, ‘I didn’t want you to go to any trouble, or I’m not that hungry.’ I tell her, ‘MOM, I already WENT to the trouble!’"
"ARRRGGHHHHH!"
"It’s like – love your show, Mom, but gotta go.”
What a card.
“So, Tammy, when you asked if I was having a good time and I said I’d rather be at the Brunch…..that’s WHY.”
“How was your Mother’s Day? Did you get to spend time with your mom?” she politely returned Tammy’s question.
“My mother’s day went kind of like yours, but in a different way. Mom gets rattled over the slightest things now, so if something changes it really upsets her. I’m constantly reassuring her. And, she’s stuck on something new now. She keeps trying to fix me up – with any male who’s ‘available.’ I show up after work for what I think is a nice dinner and here are people I don’t even know in the house because ‘we should meet.’ It’s crazy!”
Enjoying the banter and exasperation with their respective parental trauma drama, I resist the urge to tell them to enjoy it while they can. They couldn’t appreciate the sentiment anyway.
I smile and laugh good-naturedly, sharing in the moment of woman bonding, while my mind drifts elsewhere to previous Mother’s Days and times past when I HAD a mother to “complain” about – her last birthday when we played Pin the Tail on the Donkey and she tagged its back, Chad’s graduation party where she enjoyed the visit with family and friends, 4th of July at Washington on the Brazos when we walked about a mile to get to the park and she was thrilled she DID it, our first Thanksgiving back in Texas from Little Rock AFB when we donned shorts because it was too HOT for winter clothes, the time she wouldn't give me permission to car date to Odessa, her pride they day I graduated from McMurry…..the sad look in her eyes every time Mike and I backed down the drive, waving all the way, after an afternoon of yard mowing.
How wonderful it would be, again, to be in her presence. To enjoy lunch with three generations – my kids, my mom, and me.
I wish I’d seen the generations of hands picture before she died. I would love to display a black and white or sepia photograph of hers, Amanda’s and my hands forming the circle of unity.
“How was your day, Cathy?”
“What?” I stammer at the faraway sound of my name pulling me back in the moment, their eyes fixed on mine in anticipation.
“Oh, it was great, relaxing." I participate. "My daughter and step-sons were here. Mike grilled our favorites. We ate by the pool.”
“What about your mom?"
“I don’t have her anymore,” I sigh, “she died in October ’06.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” is the unison reply.
“Thanks. Me, too.”
Most definitely, me too.
To all mothers and the other phenomenal women who make a difference in our lives, we salute and honor you for your endless love, dedication and countless hours of prayer and patience.
Thank you.
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