On Sunday morning I got off work, picked up my boys from their Dad’s house, had breakfast at BK and then went to see my Mama. I was energized from a great night at Denny’s but my body was starting to ache.
As soon as they walked inside the house my boys ran straight to their Granddaddy’s room and I parked on the leather chairs in the living room beside my Mama who was watching some weird movie and eating breakfast.
“Hey Mama,” I yawned and pulled my shoes off.
She took a long swig from her coffee cup and looked over at me, shaking her head and staring at the Denny’s logo on my shirt.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re a…Denny’s worker.”
I laughed. “Yeah so?”
She shook her head again and stared ahead at the TV screen. “You didn’t have to go to college to do that, you know.”
I laughed. “Mama! I like it. I really like being a server!”
She shook her head again. “You could have been an overpaid secretary making $40,000 a year but instead…you wanna sling hash browns. Shame.”
“But I LOVE being a server. Treating people well. Taking care of them,” I explained, grinning.
“You could have been licking stamps and talking on the phone, but you’d rather throw pancakes at people. Shame.”
I couldn’t stop laughing.
There’s one thing about my Mama that I can always respect. She is unapologetically—HER.
Even when I was young and I’d get mad at her for not being like the Moms I read in books, you know- sweet, encouraging, affectionate, loving. I’d complain and she’d say, “Now you got something to tell your therapist. Get the fuck out my face!”
For all the times I thought she was wrong….
For all the times she hurt my feelings….
For all the times she wasn’t there for me….
She don’t give a fuck….and will let me know in a minute.
And I still love and respect her.
Sometimes I find myself explaining things to my sons, trying to help them understand why I am the way I am and do the things I do, but…it feels like a bunch of excuses to me. I’m not like my Mom in that way. I feel guilty because I know what my own concept of a “good Mama” is and Honestly, I’m not playing the role the way I pictured it in my head.
I’m just being Me. But when I look at my Mama…who NEVER lived up to the expectations I had for her which made me angry and resentful…she doesn’t give a damn…
All of that and today…I wish I was more like her.
Cuz I turned out okay and…I still love her.