My mother was crazy. I knew it, my family knew, I am pretty sure the whole town did. But it wasn't like we were going to tote her off to the Napa Mental Hospital and put her in a straight jacket with padded walls. No. It was more the unpredictability that made us all wonder what was going on in her head. Curtis shows up at the house when he buys his first car, and instead of nodding in approval, and giving the courteous smile while inside she is thinking what a piece of shit, she drops what she is doing and asks to go for a ride... doesn't bother with the door handle, but climbs through the sun roof giggling like she is 16 instead of 45.
When a teenage boy would follow me home and shyly shake her hand, she followed no etiquette. She simply swept her foot around him, and easily placed him on his back on the cement. He would stare into those dark eyes with pure shock wondering what the hell just happened to him. And again there is that giggle. However instead of it being the giggle of a 16 year old girl this time, it is a more mature giggle. One full of confidence; as if to say, see how easily I can put you on the ground? Love me, and love my daughter, but remember how easily I can knock you on your back.
From watching her teach, sing, dance in the kitchen, talk to complete strangers, I found myself in awe of this woman. Is this what all mothers are like?
She never stopped, that crazy woman. Not when we had too many chores, too many kids, and too many books to write. Not even when her body tried to force her to quit. No, not even then. It would take a massive cotton tree knocking the soul straight from the body to stop the freight train that was my mother.
And so I sit. Frantically trying to remember every detail of her hands, every moment I shared with her. I feel the sting on my cheek the one and only time she slapped me, I feel the anguish poring from her body when I told her I was pregnant, I see the pain in her eyes when I tell her I don't need her. What I don't see is those moments where she might of been proud of me. What I don't hear is her voice on the phone when I call searching for advice. And I don't feel the hugs any more. Mom are you proud of what I've become?
Your mama was truly a force to be reckoned with. Such a brave and powerful soul. I still can remember to this day sitting and talking with her - the passion flowing from her veins like electricity, her wisdom much greater than her years. If I could make a list of the top 10 most influential women in my life, your mom would take the cake.
ReplyDeleteI guess being on the outside, you see things differently. When I saw your mom look at you, and your family all I could see was the ultimate love. It poured from her soul and was so powerful you could actually feel it. The night before you were married and she came to me in my dreams she told me "tell my girl I love her, and I'm proud of her." I know without a doubt how proud she is of what you have become. I see so many similarities of her in you - you are truly amazing.
You are an amazing friend, a fabulous mother, a powerful business woman and have the same light and energy that draws people to you, just like your mom.
I love you, and I hope writing down stories of your mom helps you remember what a wonderful person she truly is.