I’m burning off a Monster drink (Green – cause I ain’t skeered of carbz! WORD!!) after a day from hell that drifted over to the first anniversary of my mom’s death. Anniversaries like that make you take stock in things and I took stock in the fact that I haven’t updated my blog in like forever. That sounds coarse but look at it this way – I started this thingy to get stuff off my chest and yesterday/today is a banner opportunity to remember that.
Subject: Fibo. My mom.
Name me a person with no faults and, short of deities, I’ll call you a liar. So yeah she had’em. But the cool thing is, she never hid them. They were there – take’em or leave’em. No airs. You want airs? Call Holox.
What this strategy achieved was nothing short of brilliant. It let people know who she was and choose to accept or reject her. Now check this out: The people who decided to accept her, loved her. The others? I dunno. They went about their business and didn’t get in the way much. As far as I know, she never intentionally tried to make anyone dislike her. If they did, fine. If they didn’t, fine. If she had bad people in her life, they were temporary. The good people were permanent.
See? That’s the cool thing. You CAN choose the people in your life, if not but passively. Be who you are and the people who like that kinda thing will be there. The rest? Whogivesashit?
This I learned from her. This I cherish above all else.
My mother was never into music so she didn’t have a “theme song’ as far as I know. As her son, I will take it upon myself to pick one for her.
Note: This selection is in no way to be construed as being exclusive and is only offered as a representation of the writer and is not the view, opinion, or assertion of anyone else as far as the writer knows.
(Damn lawyers. Hey, Bill Shakesphere, when can we get started with YOUR plan for them?)
My pick would be this:
This I learned from her.
Her funeral was a real eye opener for me. I knew of a lot of people who just could not be there. I understood. I knew a lot of people that could have been there just didn’t because it was not really feasible with the things going on in their lives. I understood this, too and appreciate it because I am in the same boat a lot of times. It was a hot day and there were already gonna be a lot of people there and nobody would miss anybody that didn’t show up so why go through all that mess? Summer weekend. Vacations. Kids have plans with friends. Trips and projects planned long ago. All sorts of stuff to do the weekend before the 4th of July and all. We couldn’t blame anybody for not showing up.
But show up they did. In droves. People that I didn’t know. People who I barely remembered. People from far away who had every reason to not be there. They came. And they kept coming and the florists ran out of flowers and had stores from a good piece off help to fill the orders and just damn at the food!
I think I know my mom pretty good and I think I know what she thought her funeral would be like. She had no friggin’ idea. There were hundreds that came to the hospital to see her. There were way more that paid their respects afterward. I like to think I keep tabs on what’s going on around me and am rarely surprised by what people do. I was humbled beyond measure. Nobody I saw or heard from surprised me, but the sheer enormity of the outpouring for a woman who was born to dirt poor share-croppers and who never did anything that most consider “great” in her life flat out floored me. It gave me hope at the precise time that I thought I had lost the last bit of it.
Folks, let me make this point: She never made a splash in the news. She did what a middle class mom does to get by. She had her problems and suffered them gracefully. I, and my brothers, presented her no end to stress and pride. She coulda swung either way but she chose to persevere and make the best of life. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t think it was her time. We didn’t either. But she died anyway and in her death, she was as she had been in her life – unassuming and fighting the tide. It was as if I were destined to learn from her til after her dying day. And I did.
This I learned from her.