now, i don't normally post pics of my children. but this is relevant to the story and i am trying to participate in 5 on the 5th. from the lovely Monika Wright's blog. it is a monthly post where you post 5 random pics from your life. well, obviously these are not random, they are pics taken of my daughter amy for the christmas cards that i have yet to send but that is neither here nor there. this story has to do with my mother and the pics go along with it - sort of. if you have not met my mother and would like a bit of background. well, she fantastically old, she calls her lady bits her monkey, and when she comes to visit she dries her underpants on my furnace vents. if you would like more info please refer to here and here.
anyway, this past summer my mother came to visit us. it was lovely to see her and i felt that she just might cut me some slack because of the difficult time we were going through. but of course, that was incorrect. my mother practices a strange sort of love. one might call it tough. one might call it heavy. she doesn't like belly aching. she doesn't like spleeny people, she doesn't care for complaining. she says things like "oh for god's sake would you get over it"
and so she started one afternoon over tea.......
mom: "you know, amy is quite pretty"
me: " yes, i think she is"
mom: " well, we've never really had a pretty person in our family before"
me: "oh"
then my mother starts going through her eight brothers and sisters and their children and in some incidents their grandchildren
mom: well, there's bob. his kids were not good looking. and there's marion, her kids were all kind of hunchbacks. there's dot and her kids were really... well you may as well come right out and say it. they were homely as sin..........."
as mom continues on with this "who are the ugly relations reminiscing" i sit quietly sipping my tea and think "god, you've got to love this women"
then she gets to the more immediate relatives.....
mom: "and my children, well they were certainly nothing to look at"
i pause mid-sip and look at her
me: "jesus mom, i'm sitting right here"
mom: "what, (huge dramatic pause where she turns to face me, knit needle halted) did you think you were pretty?"
me: "well, maybe in my own way."
mom: "now beverly, let's be honest"
me: "thanks mom"
mom: "well its not my fault what you look like"
me: "of course not"
mom: "well some said you were quite clever"
me: "now that makes me feel better"
mom: "of course, i couldn't see it"
and that is that. how it is to be loved by my mother. i look at her with such admiration and awe. this odd little nut has made me who i am. in my family you are never at risk from delusions of grandeur. your head will never swell with self-pride. you will be reminded that you are loved despite being nobody special.
bev xx
