Anyone who knows my mother will understand. Anyone who meets her for the first time is perplexed. Anyone who befriends her treasures it. Anyone who doesn’t… Well, they missing out.
Mommy is a talker. She relates to anyone. She relates to everyone. Like, Everyone. Class, race, gender, social status, philosophies, age, none of that matters. Are you alive? Are you within her vicinity? Can you understand English? Yes? She will talk to you. Warning you now, she has no shame and a weak censor.
But still, having this woman as a mother is probably the greatest blessing in the world. As tiresome and ungrateful I was (am) at times (because I can only speak for myself) she basically (simply) puts up with it, and prays, and waits for her children to come to their senses. We still haven’t, but we’re getting there.
Because it could have been a lot worse. She could have been a fan of straitjacket parenting that prevents any room for anything. She could have been borderline neglecting, only showing up when friends are around, or never doing that. My siblings and I could have ended up….. Anywhere, any how.
Thank God she isn’t like either of these.
My mother is the kind of woman who stays in the car, windows down (saves on gas), in the car park of a nightclub so we can have fun in a “normal” environment and a safe ride home in the end. She’s the kind of woman who stocks an impossible amount of her children’s annoying friends (from 2 schools) so everyone can get a ride home to their house. ( So guardians know she’s safe and we basically get to do whatever – under supervision and within reason, of course.)
She’s also the kind of woman who cusses you pillar to post if you deserve it. (But, she’s fair, so chances are, you did.) And, frankly she takes no shit, so for that you had to deserve it. An declaring, “not my child”? Nope, what she do? What he do? How you dealing with it? That’s mild compared…..
And somehow, I mean it’s been happening for years now, but more so as of late, and we’re only now admitting that it is what it is, it’s been translated into her ministry. She says it. Her ministry is People.
She talks to everyone, with no regard for your personal background. And she talks about God most times, whether via full-on conversation, or with a simple “God bless you.” Somehow it always ends up there. She gets right to the grit of the matter. Drug-addict? Boss, we talking, gimme a 10piece. (Most don’t take her up on the offer, some do, she refuses, saying she’s joking, but she on a real with them, with the Gospel) Homeless? Here, food, drink, a $20. God bless, eh? Lawyer? Liar, equals sin, equals Evangelising. (Not that she actually means you’re a liar if you’re a lawyer, but she will say it and use it) Now come from school? You need a drop home? Come, and she turning up the volume on the radio (107.1 FM – the Word, Best Christian music, contemporary, old school, old school with contemporary twist, Big up), all the while talking about Jesus and her relationship with God.
She’s been doing this since I was pre-double digits. And these people remember her. Her car is safest in the most dangerous of areas. People who curse generally, stop when they see her, but not because she’s a “Church-lady”, it’s genuine respect. People see the most suspect of people hugging this dressed up woman, who hugs them back and I’m sure they’re shocked. But that’s normal for us. We grew up like that. We’re just like, so who, when, where, oh, okay, and we sit on the side and wait.
As I said, this is pretty much normal for us.
The reason I decided to actually blog this instead of thinking about blogging it, was that we actually started to get into her conversations (that we usually tune out, because it’s like everything else for us). My brother and I actually gave pretty recent testimonies that had been major (for him) and pretty banal, but not really (for me), all to my friend (Hindu). Now whether she believes us, or accepted them because that’s the kind of person she is, and the kind of society we’re growing to be, it’s really she who knows.
But the seed has been planted.
All because my mother just won’t stop talking.
– K. ~