Queen For A Day

Task 20, May 10 to May 20

"You can choose your friends, but you only have one mother". Max Shulman

Everyone has a mother. And quite of few of us are married to one. But while Mother's Day celebrates all mothers, individually we celebrate the person that we call Mom, although she may or may not be the person that gave birth to us. Does that make sense?

According to Hallmark card company, MOTHERS are good natured, MOTHERS are selfless, MOTHERS are nurturing, and MOTHERS are kind, sweet, protective and well--saints.

But mothers are also human beings. At least mine was. She was strong when strength was called for and caring when kindness was needed. But she was also imperious, testy and judgmental.

In modern vernacular, she was old school. Her name was Betty and she grew up on a farm in rural Ohio. Her mother--my Grandma--didn't speak english. When they had chicken for dinner the chicken came from the backyard, not KFC. And my mother could sew and she knew how to can fruit. That's old school.

She had rules and they were inviolate. My dad was terrified of her. We all were. She had a withering stare and she didn't mind threatening us with a wooden ruler (she called it "the stick"; when she was pissed at me she would say: "go get me the stick") that sat on top of the refrigerator.

And she was feminine. She was fussy about her clothes--she liked loud colors, like purple--and her hair was never out of place. She had a weekly hair appointment that she never missed, not even for the funeral--of her sister.

She died in 1999 on the same weekend that my last son was born.

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I loved her. Three reasons:

1) She was as tough as nails and did not mince words, nor did she lie, and she did not want your sympathy, no matter the situation. I admired that. When I was a sophomore in college she had a double mastectomy. I hitchhiked across the state of Ohio, from Toledo to Ashtabula, to see her in the hospital. I ran through the lobby, ran up some stairs, found her room and went inside. She lay still, pale and without make-up, which stunned me. I leaned over to kiss her cheek and she whispering in my ear, "you forgot my birthday..." Then she laughed.

2) My mother believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. I didn't want to go to college. She wanted me to go to college. We fought for a solid year, but she wasn't to be dissuaded. She enrolled me at Bowling Green State University, drove me up on the first day and dragged me into a dorm room. I screamed and moaned and cursed at her, but I stayed...and it turned out that college was not only a good thing for me--actually was actually the best thing.

3) My mother was tolerant. I came home stinking drunk one night when I was visiting from college and a passed out on the floor in front of her--after barfing on her nightgown. Instead of asking me to fetch the stick, she pointed to the shower and walked away.

I hated her. Three reasons:

1) She was never wrong.

2) She used to brag to anyone who would listen that she only gained 11 pounds while she was pregnant with me. I don't know why exactly, but that really bothered me.

3) She was vindictive. Piss her off and you were cut off. And she wasn't difficult to piss off.

TASK:

Buy a Mother's Day card or make your own. Then, inside write down the three things you loved about your mother and the three things you hated. Be brutally honest. Then put the card in your notebook.