By Melik
My mother is odd.
I never really understood my mother. I understood that there was always something more lying underneath the surface of whatever it was she was doing or trying to communicate.
When I was eight I remember my mother walking into the kitchen where I was sitting and announcing, “This is my week to be mean.” Nothing else. I was utterly confused. I understood the parent child relationship that every week, no everyday, had the potential of mom being mean. What made this week any different than any other? Being at that age I did not get the connection when she made that announcement about once a month. I would just politely get up from where I was hearing that announcement and send myself to my room. If mom was going to be mean I was not going to be the one to bring her there.
My mother had numerous lessons, such as that, that she presented throughout my childhood. And as time went on, the more confused and frustrated I would become. I would ask her to give me just a little bit more information, please. When I was twelve my mother began to have the same conversation from time to time. It started with just her saying to me matter-of-factly, “Don’t do anything with your little head that your big head might regret.” I thought to myself this woman has got to be crazy. I finally got the nerve to ask her what she meant by my little head. She would only say that I knew what she was talking about. I had a vague idea what she was talking about but I really did not have any clue as to how deep it was.
And so it went on with my mother and I. She made sure I had everything that I ever needed. It was those little extra things that I wanted but I went without. I never had a sleep over. I was never allowed to stay at a friend’s house. That might not have had anything to do with my mother; it may have been my father’s rule. She was being the great diplomat, always trying to keep peace in the homestead. All the while trying to teach me in her cryptic manner.
A great sense of humor my mother has. Understanding of her sense of humor came quicker than the comprehension of her life lessons. She is what I would call a person that was a little “left”. She was a great observer. She saw things that I am not sure anyone else would. There was a news segment one Christmas eve. The reporter was in Ireland speaking on people from around the world and how they celebrate the holiday. The segment was mildly interesting. Towards the end of the piece my mother dryly said, “I wonder how far they had to go to find some black people in Ireland?” I gazed at the screen for a moment. I began to laugh uncontrollably.
My mother was diagnosed with cancer just over ten years ago a day or two before the Thanksgiving holiday. It was weird to see a person that was so vibrant be so sick. Through it all she maintained her wit. Through it all she maintained her positive outlook. At least that is what I observed. I went to visit her after I had shaved my head bald. She had lost her hair from receiving chemotherapy. I thought by cutting off my hair it would help her in some way. She was lying in the hospital bed that was in her bedroom. She was very weak from treatment and could barely walk. You could tell she was sick but still she was able to shine. When she saw my bald dome, she looked at me and made no response. It was a quiet, thoughtful stare and it made me very nervous. I was praying she did not think it was disrespectful. I went to get her a glass of water. When I shortly returned and I entered the room, she looked at me triumphantly. “I have hair,” she proclaimed. Somehow, in my short absence she was able to find a wig and a baseball cap with “I’m having a bad hair day” stitched on it and was back in the same position in the bed as when I had left her. I’ll be damned, that woman even in her condition was still able to get the last laugh in.
She died a few weeks later, a few days before Mother’s Day. That was a tumultuous six months. I try not to speak about my mother in the past tense. She is the only mother that I will ever have. She is the person that instilled a desire in me to be a thoughtful, respectful, positive, hardworking man. She taught me to have respect for others and to treat women with reverence. I do wish she would have been a little more revealing in those cryptic life lessons but somehow she knew I would eventually understand them as I grew older and had more experience in living. Those weird statements like “be out of town by sundown” began to burst with absolute clarity as I began to venture out in the world more. She allowed me to make decisions for myself even if she knew they might not be the most right for me at the time but did so in order for me to learn that there are consequences to every decision that I make. I love my mother. I think about her all of the time. I cry about her some times.
My mother is wise.
“I wonder why you leaving was part of the plan
Then I think maybe it was to help make me a man”
From the KgB – The Pain Before Pleasure spoken word album.
Melik is an actor and a
comedian. He also writes poetry . He is currently writing about his experience being under 40 and being a stroke survivor. He may be contacted at
melik_2001@yahoo.com.
