My mother. What can I say about her. I know when she sees that I used her childhood nickname she’s probably gonna bop me on the back of the head when she sees me. So imma take advantage of this social distancing on her memory. My Scorpio mother. If anyone knows anything about Scorpios and Tauruses you know that me and her are TOTAL opposites. When it’s good, it’s real good, but boy when it’s bad— we want to choke each other. However, my mother is one of the first relationships that I got to practice forgiveness with. Of all the times we may not mesh and we may be stubborn in our own corners, with some time, we can come back together and squash it. There have been some instances where the encounter never even phased her (true to her nature). I could ask “Ma, did you notice when blah blah blah?” And she would respond “Nope! Didn’t even notice.” Totally unphased. Unimpressed. Unbothered. And I would be in a mix of awe and laughter. My mother’s birthing story of me was one that deviated from the traditional birthing story of tears and more tears. When I was placed on her, freshly removed and covered in all things from her uterus, she asked could they please remove me and clean me first. True to her nature. That’s what I appreciate about Loretta, always staying true to who she is. Nonconforming. Untraditional. Quirky. Childhood memories: her running around the house with me and Tony, playing hide-in-seek, scaring the shit out of us, us three sitting on the couch together watching Soaps, both of us alternating sleeping with you, watching you read avidly, riding bikes together— just the three of us. Toy purchases were things that spawned our creativity or incited us to be active: ping pong tables, po-go sticks and stilts, not simply the traditional cars for him, dolls for her get-up. You enticed us to play. And you played with us. Such an important parenting take-away.
Me: Ma, can you feel wax forming in your ear? Her: I knew I shouldn’t of picked up the phone, I knew you wasn’t gonna be talking bout shit Me: 😂😂😂. Well look out for it.
The next day…
Me: Soooo… did you look out for it (with everything gonna on, I peaked her interest)?
Her: Looked out for what?? Whatchu talking bout?
Me: The wax forming in your ear 😐…
*silence*
Her: Shema, get the hell off my phone, in fact, I forgot about it right after you said that dumb shit!
😭😭😭 I swear she’s not verbally abusive. This is her humor and I love it. My mother despite her language, entertains my foolishness. She embraces all that is me. She knows that 99.9999% of the time— I don’t be calling bout nothing. I just wanna look at her face. She helped mold me into this goofy child and I remind her by calling her with nonsense almost every day. Even when I threaten to put her in Shadypines (where she responds that she will gladly go because she doesn’t want me beating and starving her), she knows that imma have her right there with me 😬. Parting that last itty bit of hair right down the middle with a swoop and carrying her around with me wherever I go. My mummy, my roll dog. Love you guh!! Happy Mother’s Day ♥️
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