Nobody Like My Mom

I love my mom soooo much. I just got off the phone with her; she invited me to come over for meatloaf, greens, candied yams and hot water corn bread. I turned her down, because I already had plans to feed myself today, but as I was hanging up it dawned on me just how much I love my mom. I don’t think I say it or show it enough. Working nights and sleeping days makes it pretty damn hard to spend as much time with my family as I would like. Although, we did have a very nice time celebrating my cousin’s birthday on Saturday. I had to go to work right after. It was so cute. My nephew had his little backpack and told everyone he was going with Uncle “One Man”. I hate it when he wants to go with me and I have to turn him down. Kids remember that crap. Actually, I never really turn him down. I distract and then sneak off. Which is probably worse, but I can bare to see the hurt look on his precious little face (damned, manipulative, little bastard).

Anyway, back to my mom. I think I take it for granted just how amazing she is. She had a stroke over five years ago, that left her paralyzed on the entire right side of her body. She went through rehabilitation for as long as we could afford it. They actually didn’t expect her to ever learn to walk again, being overweight and all; but to everyone’s surprise, she regained limited mobility (which means she could get off the bed, on her on, and get into her wheelchair. She learned to do everything using the non-dominant side of her body. Meaning she had to learn how to write, cook and other essential things with her left hand. Since she was able to maneuver into her wheelchair on her own she tried to maintain some of her independence. The bathroom was redone to fit her needs and she was able to do mostly all of the things one does in the bathroom, on her own. What always amazed me was the fact that she would get into the kitchen and still manage to cook full course meals. As a matter of fact, she tried so hard to hold on to her independence she somehow managed to spring her ankle. I still don’t know how that happened. The woman was in a chair for pity sakes!

Thanksgiving of 2006 she managed to cook an entire Thanksgiving meal and host our annual Thanksgiving at her house. Now you would think she would settle down and relax once everyone made it over, but not her. Instead of letting us cater to her, she attempted to stay in the mix of the Thanksgiving food frenzy, which lead to the catastrophe that knocked her back down to square one. You see, instead of allowing one of my sister’s to fix her a plate, she had to get all in the way. Well, long story short, she somehow turned on switch of her chair and run over her own damn foot; the bad one (which means she didn’t feel it until she FELT it). How the hell does that happen? If I hadn’t been there I would have excused one of my siblings of doing it (‘cause I be cynical like that). I was so pissed; mad at her for putting herself into a position to run over her foot and mad at my family for babying her. Of course I felt horrible the following week when we found out that she had actually broken the foot. This put her completely out of commission and it also stopped her from being able to attend the family cruise that I had planned and paid her portion of. To date she is just now getting back to the point where she can move from the bed and onto her wheel chair.

Now she spends the majority of her time watching television and playing spades and hearts on the Internet. I like that she plays these games because it keeps her mind active. Hell, I don’t do much more my damn self. She is so funny. There was a point when her and my little brother would get online, go into one of the Spades game rooms and play as partners. What was so funny would be that they would cheat. She would be yelling at him what cards to play and stuff. It was so funny. Then I would go home, find the room they were in and tell people they were in the same house cheating. I am such a hater. It makes me sad though. My mom use to be a very accomplished seamstress (I think I get my artist talents from her). This was something that she had to give up after the stroke. I am still amazed at some of the things she managed to do with her one good hand and I have tried, unsuccessfully, to get her to try her hand (no pun intended) at sewing again. I think she could do it and I think it would give her a great sense of accomplishment. I think she has fooled herself into thinking that this is something that she can never do again. I hate that. But what are you gonna do?

I will say this. If she were to decide to take back up sewing I’d be more than willing to buy her the sewing machine. They have this new one by “Brother” that threads itself. I am seriously contemplating buying the damn thing for her for Mother’s day. The problem is that the one I am talking about is hella expensive and I don’t want to waste money on something that she is not willing to give a try. So, how do you motivate a woman like my mom? LOL

-One Man's Opinion. Peace.

(Encase you have not figured it out yet, the picture is of a painting I did of my mom and deceased step-father. I call it African-American Gothic).