MY MOTHER AND ME
By Phyllis W. Hoffman
I awakened out of a sound sleep. When I looked at the clock, it was only three in the morning. Tim was snoring softly. I debated whether to get out of bed and read. Instead I turned over and tried to go back to sleep. It was useless. I was wide-awake.
I tiptoed out of the bedroom into my office and turned on the computer. There were two emails unread. Both asked for money for the upcoming election. I put them into the JUNK file. Then I started playing solitaire and lost two games.
Suddenly, the hair on my pajama-clad arms stood on edge and I got a shiver down my spine. There was a presence in the room. I knew immediately who it was. I could smell her cologne. I remembered that Joy came in a lovely crystal bottle. It was sweet but understated. “Mom, it’s you, isn’t it?” I asked. “What are you…?” Slowly she came into my bi-focalled view, all four feet eleven inches of her.
“Shhh. I want to talk that’s all. We never got a chance to just talk.”
“No, we didn’t, did we? It was hard for me. But why now?”
“Don’t ask. You always asked too many questions!” She looked around at the walls of my office and remarked in words tinged with sarcasm, “It’s pretty nice. Look at all those awards. Advocate of the Year, President’s Daily Points of Light. A whole day they honored you for. Two signed letters from the President Bushes and a handwritten one from Jeb! Dear God, you haven’t become a Republican have you? Oh, I know, I know, I know more than you think I know, but that’s not why I came.”
“So why are you here? Good grief, I never got over your going and now you’re here. I don’t know how to act. The night we said goodbye I knew you would be gone. It was the first time you ever told me you loved me and you liked me. You always left the last part out…or said you had to love me but you didn’t have to like me. I knew you were telling me something else, but I didn’t know how to answer you, so I left. After you were gone I found the note in your jewelry box…I was really looking for your secret stash…I found something more important…Remember? It said, ‘When at last my life on earth is through, I will share eternity with you’…It was a love letter to Daddy and a suicide note to me, wasn’t it? It was on a small piece of notepaper. I still have it.” I looked up at her and smiled. “I never found your secret stash, though. You called it your knipple. When the men came to take your bed away, it dawned on me that it was stuffed in your mattress…the one we gave to the Hope School.”
She sat down on the couch and patted the place beside her for me. I moved over. She looked straight ahead and began, “You had everything I wanted. You were beautiful, smart and you had a chance to use your brains. I was furious and jealous and I couldn’t let you have all that without a fight…without your knowing how hard it was for me. In your day I could have been a doctor. Back then my father wouldn’t even hear of me being a nurse. I don’t think you ever did understand. The worst part was that Daddy loved you so much. As soon as you were born, it was like I didn’t exist. I guess he cared about me, just not enough.” She barely raised her voice as she told me this. We sat in silence, both of us fighting the tears. “But come on,” she said. “Let’s not be sad. Did you hear the joke about the rabbi, the priest and the minister?”
Oh, Mom, not now!” But I couldn’t help smiling. We let the quiet soothe us. I took her hand in mine. “Do you remember the day you had your colon resection? You were in the hospital and Daddy was in the kitchen having cornflakes and milk at 4 o’clock in the morning. I got out of bed when I heard him. Gloria stayed sound asleep. Mom, he was so worried about you. He told me he didn’t know what he would do without you. He loved you, Mom. Yes, he did. I know it!”
“Did he really say that?” she asked.
“He really did. Really, really. Is that why you came? To hear that?”
“Well, there is one more thing.”
“What?”
“You didn’t light the yahrzeit light.”
“Oh my God! That’s why I couldn’t sleep! Gloria…”
“I know, she usually reminds you. I love to listen in on your conversations. It’s always the same. ‘Hi, do you know what day today is?” She laughed softly and started to fade.
“Oh, Mom, can’t you stay? There’s so much more.” I could smell her scent but I couldn’t see her any more. Her words floated through the room, “I love you and oh yes, I like you.”
I walked toward the kitchen to get to the closet. It was there that I saw the light. It was lit. Beside it was a note…SAME TIME NEXT YEAR!
phyllishoffman 