Fear
December 19th, 2006
Remember when I wrote about wanting to dress up like a prostitute for Halloween because of the Golden Girls? Dude. Apparently the Golden Girls are some kind of evil smutty empire, because tonight when I asked my mom if she remembered that story, she grimly replied, “Uh, yes. You wanted to wear a bustier and were extremely angry when I said no because I wouldn’t even discuss it.” Apparently I begged and cajoled and then ran off because she wouldn’t have an open dialog about whether or not fishnets and a feather boa were appropriate for an 11 year-old at Halloween so that I could dress up as a “lady of the night,” which we can all only assume (hope?) I thought meant was a more fun version of a night owl. She also kindly reminded me that around the same time I was swimming with her at the local YMCA and she accidentally splashed me and I announced, “MOM! Why do you have to be such a SLUT?”
Right. I called my mom a slut. Needless to say she wasn’t pleased and had a bit of an explosive reaction and I wailed and cried. She was unmoved until I sniveled, “But Dorothy calls Blanche that all the time!”
Ah, the Golden Girls. Bringing sexual innuendo to young girls everywhere. The irony is almost too much to take, isn’t it?
I talked to my mom three times today. I don’t know what it is lately, but I can’t get enough of my mom. I’ve called her enough that it’s probably immensely irritating, and I’ll admit, I’m a little embarrassed when my stepdad asks me if I called for a reason and I reply, “Uh. Not really. I mean, I had something that happened since I talked to her at lunchtime, but now I can’t remember what it is.” My mom is just so good to talk to – she’s so soothing and relaxed and she always makes you feel good, even if you didn’t think you could possibly feel any better.
If I am at all screwed up, I cannot blame it on my mother, because she was nothing short of awesome. In fact, much of my desire to become a parent stems from my memories of how wonderful she was with me. The paradigm of the child-obsessed stay-at-home mom did not originate with my mother. I mean, she stayed home with me while I was growing up, but not for one second, even in retrospect, was she overly focused on me. She paid attention to me and we spent a lot of time together, sure, but she always had her own thing going on – she was always having lunch with one friend or another, always working on some new project, new art, new quilt. She was (and still is) into everything, and is a brilliant artist who still shows and sells pieces at home in Pennsylvania. She taught me that you can be a parent and still be a whole person, and that by having a child, you don’t have to give up who you are. She is exactly as she’s always been – exactly who she was before her kids, and exactly who she is afterwards.
She keeps in touch with my high school friends, even the ones I haven’t talked to or thought of in years. They call her when they need help or advice, and whenever they come into town, they make a point to have dinner with her, even when they don’t have time to see other friends. I’ve been there when some of them call or stop by, and it’s always awkward, because while they’re happy to see me, I wasn’t remotely the reason they came over – she was. Half of my male friends had a crush on her growing up, and I’m not sure some of them aren’t still harboring those crushes, even though she is 65. It’s not just that she’s attractive – although she is, in fact, extremely pretty – it’s that she makes people feel good, and she’s comfortable with herself in a way that makes you feel comfortable and at ease just being around her. She is exactly who she says she is, and loves herself enough to be able to freely love other people in an entirely un-jealous way.
She wasn’t perfect, of course. There were things about her that irritated me, such as the fact that I wasn’t allowed to listen to Prince, as she believed he would cause me to do something overtly sexual, like spontaneous orgasm while listening to ‘Raspberry Beret’ or something (She called him ‘filthy’ on a near-daily basis). I also wasn’t allowed to see half the movies my friends could – I think I was the last person on earth to see Pretty Woman, because it involved prostitutes. A sad irony, when you think about it, because apparently it was the Golden Girls she should have been concerned about, for I learned more about sex from Dorothy and Blanche than I did from Vivian, and that included condoms! Yes, the Golden Girls used condoms, and doesn’t everyone remember when Rose had a brush with HIV and had a man die in her bed after having sex? And Blanche thought she was pregnant, then went through menopause? Sex ran amok on the Golden Girls! And you know, it’s highly likely that the ban on Pretty Woman was in part because of my youthful interest in prostitution and bustiers, courtesy of Rose Nylund.
H asked me what my biggest fear is, and though I am afraid of a lot of things, most of them are irrational and/or preventable, and I have medication and therapy for that. My biggest fear – other than losing my husband, which is too horrible to fathom – is actually the inevitable fact that I am going to lose my mother, if nature takes the course it’s supposed to. I know she’s not going to live forever, as much as I would like her to, and I know that one day, she’s not going to be here anymore, and I’m going to have to go on without her. I hate this fact. I go through phases sometimes when I try to wean myself off of the regular phone calls, off of needing to bounce something off of her, or just to hear a joke she picked up with her church friends. But that would really be stupid, I remind myself, because when she is gone one day, I would sorely regret not picking up the phone and hearing her laugh when I had the opportunity. And so, I call her every day, sometimes twice a day, and I will for as long as I can.
I can’t wait to see her on Saturday. Hug your moms this holiday season, either in person or phone, or if they’re already gone, by just thinking about them.
*Sarah McLachlan
Entry Filed under: Nuttin'
30 Comments Add your own
1. H | December 19th, 2006 at 9:06 pm
Thank you for answering my question, and for the incredible tribute to your mom. She sounds like a wonderful person, and I hope you don’t lose her for decades.
My mom isn’t a bad person, but my parent’s marriage was so troubled that she was always preoccupied with her own problems, and she still is quite damaged emotionally. I understand her more because I know more about what was going on and also because I know what it is like to be a wife and mother. Your post has inspired me to look at her through fresh eyes when I see her this weekend. Thank you for that.
2. Melissa | December 19th, 2006 at 9:10 pm
Ah, that’s a tough one. I’d like to think that my mom will be here forever, and I don’t want to think of what will happen when that bubble bursts. My dad, too – I picture him as always strong, always with the answer. The good thing about close families (as it sounds like yours is), is that no one is shy with the I love yous and I appreciate yous.
I think it will be hard as hell when our parents pass, but at least we won’t look back and think that we missed opportunities to laugh with them, listen to them, and value them.
3. Teej | December 19th, 2006 at 9:11 pm
That is my biggest fear also — I can’t bear to think about it. But I guess we have to think about it sometimes because it reminds us how important it is to soak up every minute with our moms while we can. Thanks for the timely reminder. (Your mom sounds wonderful, btw.)
4. -R- | December 19th, 2006 at 9:25 pm
That was really beautiful, you slut. Sorry, I couldn’t resist! But really, that was an amazing essay about your mom.
5. kerrianne | December 20th, 2006 at 12:19 am
I love the idea that we can “hug” those already gone through our thoughts. And I love my mom. And yours, too, just from your description of her. : ) (And I used to watch the Golden Girls all! the time, although I can’t remember anything so overtly sexual, so clearly I was missing out.)
6. Blythe | December 20th, 2006 at 12:33 am
I have the same fear about my mom. I also fear (as I prepare to give birth in 3 weeks, holy crap) that I’ll never live up to what an amazing mother she was to me. I think I’ve finally convinced myself that it’s OK if I am a different kind of mom, but it’s sure hard not to want to be just like her. Slut.
7. Carol | December 20th, 2006 at 5:50 am
You are extremely lucky – be sure to let her know how you feel this weekend. Merry Christmas (and Happy Hannukah!), Jonna
8. Claire | December 20th, 2006 at 6:33 am
Aw, stuff like that makes me a little weepy. I used to have a dream about my mother being hit in a car accident that used to make me wake up sweating and sobbing. So scary. I love my mom, too and couldn’t imagine being without her wisdom and insight.
thanks for making us think about that. I’m gonna go visit her tonight… : )
9. Allison | December 20th, 2006 at 6:45 am
I fear the inevitable day that my mom will no longer be on the other end of the phone as well. Wait til you have a baby. You will want to talk to your mom ALL the time! I know I do!
Also, in 7th grade, I went home and told my parents that because I had worn green to school, I was horny because green means you’re horny. Uh. I had NO idea what I was talking about, thank goodness.
10. Sadie | December 20th, 2006 at 6:54 am
Awww, your mom sounds awesome. Just like mine. Our moms, they rule. Many of my friends can’t spend more than an hour with their mothers without clawing their own eyes out, but I have never, ever felt like that. My mom is like yours – the mom everyone wishes they had. And it’s not because she was the mom who baked fresh cookies every day after school – she didn’t – it was because she’s just a cool, kind, reasonable lady. And I have never in my life felt a hotter rage than when someone has been rude or hurtful to my mother in front of me.
The multiple-calls-per-day thing is very funny, because sometimes I will call my mom more than once per day, and she’ll be like, “um, what’s up?” like, “kid, I just talked to you three hours ago.”
11. H | December 20th, 2006 at 7:07 am
I forgot to mention the Golden Girls. I love that show and everyone around here makes fun of me for liking an “old person’s” show. Glad to know I’m not the only one!!
12. Lawyerish | December 20th, 2006 at 7:33 am
I am DYING over Allison’s comment, because I so remember the whole stupid “green means your horny” thing that some girls in our school started.
Jonna, this is beautiful and of course made me tear up, and I want to come and give you AND your mom a hug. You are going to be the same kind of mom — amazing and unique and the envy of all your kids’ friends.
I cannot even think about the unthinkable things mentioned here because they make me want to jump out a window. CANNOT THINK.
13. Amanda | December 20th, 2006 at 8:20 am
“MOM, why do you have to be such a SLUT?”
That made me laugh out loud.
Then your closing paragraph made my eyes well up.
You’re good,
14. TwoBusy | December 20th, 2006 at 8:43 am
I hope this means you’ve chosen to label all of her Christmas gifts with
“To: Slut
From: Jonna”
15. Lacey | December 20th, 2006 at 8:59 am
You’re going to make me cry because I love my mom so much and your post is exactly what I would say about my mom if I was going to write a post about her. I love my mom!
I watched Golden Girls last night, by the way. I love those ladies.
And as for my embaressing statement to my parents – my mom and dad and sister and I were all in the car driving to my grandparents for Christmas or something and my dad was talking about houses he’d like to live in. And I piped right in with this: “When I grow up I’m going to live in a condom!” And my dad? He didn’t correct me. He laughed. So I then went around telling EVERYONE I was going to live in a condom.
16. Christine | December 20th, 2006 at 9:30 am
Thanks for making me tear up at work. Ugh.
And you and your mom sound entirely too sweet. Happy Holidays to you and yours!
17. Suebob | December 20th, 2006 at 10:00 am
testing
18. Suebob | December 20th, 2006 at 10:02 am
I had to do a test comment because yesterday’s brilliant 300-word manifesto wouldn’t post because it claimed I didn’t enter the security code – I did! I did!
This is a beautiful post.
My friend Christine’s mom died a few years ago and Christine says that she has never felt closer to her mom, because now her presence is all-pervasive and she feels an instant communication with her mother that she didn’t have before. I hope that is true, because it gives me a great deal of comfort.
19. lizgwiz | December 20th, 2006 at 10:48 am
Awww…so sweet. Your mom sounds a lot like my mom. My high school friends all loved to hang at my house, and some still keep in touch with her, though not me. And we talk on the phone pretty much every day (as she did with her own mother). Sometimes she calls all concerned: “We didn’t talk yesterday–are you all right?” Moms are great. And yeah, I can’t stand the thought of losing mine, either.
20. Mauigirl52 | December 20th, 2006 at 11:36 am
I know what you mean – I talk to my mom all the time and although she is 87 she is still the same mom she always was, especially over the phone. When I see her in person I’m always surprised she’s turned into this old lady. (Ironically she just moved into a senior citizen apartment building in our neighborhood so our friends are now seeing her much more often and they can’t seem to go one day without telling me I look JUST LIKE HER. She looks good for 87 but still…)
I lost my dad at age 92 almost 2 years ago after a year of Alzheimers…so in a way I lost him about 3 years ago when he stopped being himself. To this day I see books that he would have liked when he was himself, and feel bad he’s no longer there to enjoy them. I know it will be even worse when my mom goes…
21. Andrea | December 20th, 2006 at 12:59 pm
Dressing up as a hooker for Halloween? That’s just asking for trouble. I should know. I did it in 7th grade. I wrote about it today for my post tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind but I borrowed this idea yesterday of having the readers ask questions. The post got too long and I had to break it up into two days, so I for tomorrow, I answered my most embarrassing moment as when I dressed up as a hooker for Halloween. Yeah, be glad your mother said no. S’all I’m sayin’.
Your mother? Sounds very sweet. This is such an awesome post. I’m going to give my mother an extra hard hug on Friday when I see her again. And try not to think about how I’ll handle it when she’s no longer around.
22. Heather B. | December 20th, 2006 at 1:32 pm
My mom called me earlier to tell me why her boss was so great – he bought her something from Tiffany for Christmas – and when she called I was overwhelmed and got all huffy and pissy with her and told her I’d call her back. It’s now almost 4 and I have yet to call her back. And after reading this I feel like a giant bitch.
Awesome.
Other than today though, I talk to her probably 4 or 5 times a day. But today was just long and tiring. No excuse I know. Going to call her now..
23. Beth | December 20th, 2006 at 1:39 pm
If your mom doesn’t already read your blog, I think you should print this out and give it to her for Christmas. It’s that beautiful. I love your mom now and I’ve never even met her! ;^)
24. Nancy | December 21st, 2006 at 3:20 pm
Amen, sister. That hit close to home. I did almost lose my mother two years, two months and fourteen days ago and the world stopped spinning, hung precariously in the balance, and — thank goodness — continued apace. But I still define my life as the time that came before and the time after.
Your writing is so lovely, holy cow.
25. Sylvia | December 21st, 2006 at 7:20 pm
The security system wouldn’t let me send a comment; the comment was relevant or so I thought, so it went through your “Contact Me” page. Just so long as you read it, whether or not it gets posted isn’t a big deal. Thank you for a wonderful and poignant post.
26. Sylvia | December 21st, 2006 at 7:29 pm
OK, let’s try again: when I was on my way out the door trying to get laid when I was 14, my mother gave me a thoughtful look and told me I looked “like a cross between a witch and a whore”. Now that I’m in my 40s, I know she was right. She still works full-time, at age 67, and is a breast cancer survivor. This post inspires me to remind her of her comment, and tell her she was right, and maybe laugh with her about it for the first time in 30 years. Thank you for a wonderful gift, and may you and your mom love each other for many life-times to come.
27. Irish Goddess | December 22nd, 2006 at 9:15 pm
This was such a lovely post. How lucky to have a mother that you enjoy. One of the good things time does for us is to see our mothers as humans for a change. I thought my mother was in charge of everything, so she was magical, and yet I blamed her when things weren’t right. Now I can see how amazing she really was, because she *did* make things magical for me, even as she was dealing with some pretty difficult things.
28. jen fromboston | December 26th, 2006 at 12:32 pm
Your mom sounds lovely. “slut” – heh. Nice. Up there with when I asked my Dad was a chastity belt was.
My parents banned Three’s Company for the same reason. And when I got busted one time (nothing else was on – I really didn’t care for the show either way), so did my bony ass. To look at it now, it’s like “uh, what was the big deal, people??” I learned NOTHING from Three’s Compnay other than Chrissy’s 2 side pony tails bugged the shit out of me. I was an ornery 4th grader, what can I tell ya?
29. guinness girl | December 27th, 2006 at 2:44 pm
This was so nice! I hugged my mom maybe a gazillion times during the 5 days i was home. So nice.
DYING over you calling her a slut, by the way. Ha.
30. urban chick | December 27th, 2006 at 3:29 pm
what a beautiful tribute
i’ve just moved back to my hometown (where my mum – and dad – still live) after a 16 year absence and i love seeing more of her (and him!) and i love it that they are now very close to my kids
oh, and my mum and i (and sisters) also loved the golden girls…
UC
Leave a Comment
Some HTML allowed:
<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>
Trackback this post | Subscribe to the comments via RSS Feed