It just happens one day. That day might occur when you’re very young. It might not happen until you have gray in your hair. Sometimes it happens too late. You can’t do anything about it.
The day you realize that your mother is actually a person. Not a servant. Not just a cook. More than a teacher. Much more than a friend.
The day you realize that she’s been there all along. Before you were born. Before you were even thought of.
I came to realize this pretty early I think. It wasn’t instantaneous. The hints were there all along.
The way my father lit up when she walked into a room showed me the girl he fell in love with. The uproar of laughter that erupted out of Ma’s sisters every time she told a story……….gave me the little girl that she used to be. The girl that slept three to a bed. In the middle during the winter and on the edge near the window fan in the summer. She wasn’t just pretty. She was smart.
I decided to do something with my knowledge. I was twelve and had come into money. I had my own paper route. I learned to stack shiny quarters into stacks of four. When I had enough of them……….my Ma would smile and give me a five dollar bill for them. She’d take down my coffee can bank and we’d deposit that bill into the can. She’d do a little dance around the kitchen with me.
The winter had been long. My mother didn’t drive. My father worked long hours and even weekends when overtime was available. Ma lived too far from her sisters for regular visits. Long distance phone calls were saved for bad news.
She was going a little stir crazy.
Oh, our house was cozy. She kept busy at the stove. She kept the washing machine chugging and I helped her pin clothing to the line in the back yard. She found an hour here and there to have tea with a friend.
She was missing fun.
She took to sighing quite often. She gazed out windows for minutes on end with a smile on her face. She’d snap herself out of it and continue to put the dishes away in the cupboard. Followed by another sigh. She was remembering.
Remembering other days when the snow cascaded down. I couldn’t see the visions that flitted across the back of her eye lids. But, I could imagine. Sliding down a hill with her sisters. Hitting her new fiance in the face with a snow ball and the chase that followed. Letting him catch her.
I got home from my paper route as darkness started to fall. The snow was coming down like a curtain. That snow didn’t even bother to try to be quiet. It was noisy. It was wet and heavy.
I stomped at the back porch dislodging clumps of snow. I didn’t bother shaking out my coat and mittens. It wasn’t time to take them down to the basement. To where they would dry hissing on top of the furnace.
I had a plan.
I opened the kitchen door and stood on the rubber mat. I started to drip. Ma had the refrigerator door open. She was gathering beef and carrots to make a beef stew. That was her go to dinner when snow came down.
“Get those snowy things off and stop dripping all over my kitchen. Get them down to the furnace and then you can help me make dinner.” she said to me.
“Not tonight.” I answered.
She closed the refrigerator door.
“What did you say? You do as your told, Darlene.” she answered with a curious look on her face.
“Which of your sisters was the bossiest?” I asked her.
The question was so strange to her. I got nothing but silence. So, I asked it again.
“Rita, I suppose. Because, she was the oldest and there were so many of us. She acted like a second Mama. What in heaven’s name is wrong with you? Take off those boots and quit asking me weird questions.” Ma said as she put the food back into the refrigerator.
I think I was scaring her a little bit.
“Let’s pretend for tonight, that I’m Rita. Forget the beef stew. Go put on your coat. Warm mittens. That red wool hat. Don’t forget a scarf because the snow is going to go right down your neck.” I advised.
“And, why would I be doing that that?” Ma asked with an obstinate look on her face and her hands on her hips.
“Because, we’re about to build a huge snowman.” I answered.
“Oh, are we?” she asked with a chuckle. “And, who is going to make our dinner?”
“We’re having pizza delivered. We’re taking the money out of my coffee can. A great big pizza. Half hamburger and half pepperoni. We can even order a salad if we want to pretend that we’re eating healthy. My treat!” I answered as more snow from my coat plopped onto the shiny linoleum.
“Get dressed! And, bring a carrot.” I bossed as I backed out the door.
My mother was a private person. She cared what the neighbors thought. Too much I reckoned. She would want to build this snowman in the back yard. Away from prying eyes.
So, I chose a spot for our snowman right in the front yard. Right under the bright street light that adorned the telephone pole. Directly in front of our picture window that was full of twinkling Christmas tree.
Ma eventually came out. She was bundled up. She held a carrot in her hand.
“Oh, no! Let’s build this thing in the back yard!” she said exactly what I expected.
“Nope! I’m the bossy one today. And, I want it right in front of the picture window. We have to do a good job too. We’re going to be looking at this for a month, Ma. So, let’s make it a great one!” I countered.
So, we did.
That snowman turned out to be a snow lady. My mother laughed like crazy as she gave her a rounded chest. She found pieces of hemlock for eye lashes. Branches for arms. She even adorned the head with her own red hat set at a jaunty angle.
We both decorated the furnace with our clothing an hour later. We both listened to water sizzling as the snow melted. We both lined up boots to dry so they wouldn’t get stinky.
I felt very grown up on the phone ordering a large pizza to be delivered. We both decided to skip the salad.
We made a night of it sitting at our little kitchen table. Pizza turned into crackers and peanut butter. A pot of tea and lots of chatting. We even did my math homework together.
I eventually gave myself away.
“When did you realize that your mother was actually a person, Ma?” I asked.
My mother got a big grin on her face. She knew then that she had figured it out right all along.
Why she had been forced out into the cold to make a snowman.
“Oh, I think I was about your age. I found a nickle on the sidewalk. I went into the corner market and bought a bag of licorice for my sisters. I don’t even like licorice but they all did. And, it was the candy that you could get the most of for a nickle.” Ma smiled as she remembered.
“I brought it home and put the bag on the kitchen table. My mother peeked inside and she said ‘Licorice! Oh my, I love licorice. It’s my favorite.” Ma said as she topped off my tea.
“That’s the day I realized my mother was a person.”
growinguponcolumbusstreet 