She left her prompts, for elaboration, on this gloomy Thursday.
The Prompts:
1.) Interview your mom...questions might include, How has motherhood changed you? What ages were your favorites? Do you miss having having kids in the house? What was the most difficult part of being a mom for you? What was the most rewarding part? etc... I think I'll ask my Mom if I'm her favorite child and when she dodges the question (again) I'll scream, "DAMMIT WOMAN! Answer the QUESTION!!" Feel free to steal my idea.
2.) Tell us the story of your birth.
3.) How did you parents choose your name? What does it mean? What would you change your name to if you could?
4.) Describe a moment when you realized your mom was more than just a mom.
5.) Write a poem for your Mama.
I remember that day VIVIDLY even though it was about 4000 years ago.
She and my father had FINALLY divorced and I had already noticed a calmer, less distracted woman taking the place of where my worried mom was. We lived in a nice little ranch style house (the one with the creepy wooden doors that I mentioned previously) and the two of us has settled into a nice routine of me being a kid and her finally being a woman that didn't have to worry about being beaten to death.
One day when I was about 8 the doorbell rang.
Like most kids, I ran to the door, like it was my job, but on the other side, was a man. A man that looked like he was my mom's age. I had no idea who this was, but he asked for my mom, so I yelled to her that there was a strange man at the door for her. I remember him laughing at me because I called him strange.
I remember he was wearing a suit and tie and he smelled good. The kind of good smell that meant you were going somewhere special.
When my mom came to the door, after I had not bothered to let the stranger in the house, my mom let out an "OH MY GOD" and invited this man in. It turns out, they had been friends in high-school and he was back in town visiting family and stopped by to say hi. (I found out much later that he was also divorced and was snooping around to see if my mom was available--yuk, yeah, even all these years later, yuk).
Anyway, this man took up residence in our living room for what felt like an eternity. Laughing, recalling "old times" and talking to my mom about dancing.
DANCING?
I hadn't known till then that my mom was an incredible dancer, and after high school, went to the big city to teach dance. Apparently, she was very well known and well regarded and when she was building this life, she met and married my father and her life went to hell.
But that is only part of when I realized she was more than a mom.
When the good smelling man in the suit got up to leave...mom walked him to the door (I was in and out of the room the whole visit, because I didn't really like the way this man was looking at my mom, and she was giggling...LIKE A KID...and it was weird.
They get to the front door, promise to keep in touch, then it happened. He kissed her. ON. THE. MOUTH. I was completely repulsed. Nobody had ever done that to MY mother. The kicker...when he left, she was SMILING. She had actually LIKED it.
At that moment, I knew she was not just a mom. She was a mom that liked being kissed my men in suits that smelled like dressed up men smell.
As far as I know, he never came back. She explained to me that he was just an old friend, but I think with the horrified, traumatized look on my face, she couldn't have told me anything else!
5 comments:
Loved this post.....But as a mom who has been in your Mother's shoe's...........I'm a little sad to think "he never came back." Perhaps that was because "You were her favorite?" Mother's never want to traumatize their children. That's just one theory.
So sad to think you had never before seen your mom being kissed. A wonderful post Kat, thank you for sharing this moment with us.
I should clarify that it wasn't because of me that he never came back. Years later, while recalling this event, my mom told me that he was a bit of a "player" and she wouldn't have dated him :)
I think that's a great story. I have a similar story of my mum kissing a man (long story) and it repulsed me too. I was completely grossed out. It's funny how we think our mums never did that kind of stuff.
You should write your mother's story. You won't be sorry.
Wow!
Great post! I felt like it was the child in you telling the story.
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