Feliz Dia de los Madres

Today I woke up and saw that my mother was looking at me waiting for something. I couldn’t think of anything at the moment, so I said, “What’s up?” She said, “It’s Mother’s Day.” I paused for a moment, thinking “Ok, she’s old (62) so she’s probably mixed up again.” and so I replied, “No, that’s Sunday, see?” me pointing to a calendar.  “Well, yes, but in Mexico it’s today.” Taking her word for it, I gave her a hug and asked if she wanted anything special for Breakfast, and so afterwards I had to clean her room for she was expecting guests, and so she told me that she wanted Espinaso de Res con Nopales, a Very tasty Mexican stew, yet while I was out getting the needed salsa, I got an additional item to make Enchiladas for her on Sunday, she has been telling me for sometime that she’s been craving that, and I’ve yet to get an opportunity to get the needed ingredients, but I got it today! So I’m hoping for this to be a special Mother’s Day for her… Heh, especially since it’s the first one without my Father…

Well, I’ve found a song that she used to play for me before I started school, Chubby Checker’s Limbo Rock. In those times, I was with her everywhere she went, I was the Youngest in the family out of 7 siblings so my Mother never got to spend a lot of one-on-one quality Maternal time with a lot of us. But with 2 years between myself and the brother before me, I was at home with her for sometime before I made my way into school, and those times were most special to me… And to her. Her eyes would swell up recalling those days when she’d take me out to the local K-Mart and all of the Cashier girls would gush over me and my red hair, and she’d buy me those sandwich cookies and I felt like the world was completed. Her hand in mine, we’d sing along those lines of Limbo Rock as we run errands like grocery shopping or cleaning the house. We were partners, we were friends, we were happy. We carried grand smiles on our faces and the rest of the world would smile back, just as wide. My 5-year-old world consisted of only My mother and our time together, singing, dancing, her spoiling me with cookies and candy. The world was second only to her, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. She’d teach me all about her heritage, the songs she would sing were like silk, soothing to hear and always calming, always about story that someone had made while observing various things like two trees reaching for each other as if Lovers who are finally given the chance to embrace, or of a funny story like the boy who outsmarted a wolf. Each song, each story, each moment of our time together had a lesson within it, and That’s what I will always remember, her being a teacher to me, teaching me about wits, about Honor, about treating others with respect, ha ha, even how to fight and where to hit people (she taught me this the hard way.)

And now, years later, it’s all a distant memory. To speak the truth, those times were the only thing I can remember from way back then, once school started, I was on my way. Yet, whenever possible, I would have that alone time with my mother, be it on the road heading somewhere or just watching TV, and then we’d always seem to jump right into a heart-to-heart moment, her teaching me something, or we’d talk about our times together. And now, I am here fighting to become someone she can be proud of. As time passes, I’m feeling more and more desperate in trying to become that, and she smiles and tells me that I should try to take it easy, and not push myself too hard… Heh, if I were to ask her right now, if she’s proud of me, she’d smile and would say, “Of Course.” and then list various reasons as well as accomplishments that I have done to back her reasoning.

Ha, I am invited to a Ceremony were the graduating minorites receive some Medallion on May 19th, and my first invites are my immediate family, and she turned to me and told me that she’s glad that I don’t find it shameful or embarrassing to be seen in public with her, because she’s obese and has an Oxygen tank, her smile behind a mask to protect her from foreign germs that can bring her death at any moment, her path must always a smooth one because she’s in a wheelchair. I assured her that I care about her moreso than anyone strangers opinion…

In one of our talks she made me promise something, something that’s very difficult for me to do, and it almost doesn’t seem fair at all for me to keep such a promise, but for her, I accepted. When it’s time for me to fulfill this promise, I will write it down here… Heh, I’m always of the mind that promises are made to be broken, but when one gives his/her word, then that must always be kept, and can never be broken. and yet, this is one Promise that I will do everything within my power to keep and uphold with honor.

A promise from a Mother to her Son… A Promise…


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s