reminiscence

I return to work in 22 minutes but I’d like to share a vignette from an hour ago.

I drove to my parents house to eat and do laundry, like any college kid does. I walked up to the door, laundry in hand, and paused at the door momentarily to listen to my mother play the piano. Ma is classically trained, and has a degree in it, but hardly plays anymore. I think that a lifetime of playing for the public exhausted her joy from it a while ago. She’s also in so much pain from her illnesses that it’s hard for her to enjoy anything anymore. Nevertheless, she still plays from time to time, and this was one of those times. It heartened me. My parents can’t go back to whatever dimension we were in before Sara’s death, but it’s nice to see them reaching out for things they used to do and enjoy. It also reminded me of my childhood days, where I’d come home from school at our little shack in Indiana and find her in the living room playing Rachmaninoff as though it were Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. My folks are so talented.

Anyway, she had fried some chicken, so we had some tea and ate while  talking through our grief about Sara. I told her my theories about what caused the cancer, and she updated me on what she’s heard from the people who carried us through the journey– the resident that treated our girl, the social worker that ensured financial assistance for the chemo, Sara’s favorite nurses. They still talk about our family too, and all of our friends from worship who adored Sara and stayed with us night and day at the hospital. It was interesting to hear the stories and perspectives.

She also told me of the struggles her and Dad are going through now that he’s not working. They’re praying he gets the social security he needs, and that he continues to get the medical care he needs for the rest of his life. We also talked of how astonishingly hard it is for the black community to build wealth, and our relatives that we wish would get their lives together enough for us to pool resources. My great uncle still smokes crack at 67. I wish that was the punchline of one of Dave Chappelle’s jokes instead of the reality of the situation, but here we are.

But then we talked about me, and we talked about Adam, and her joy in seeing me be with a man who truly loves me.

“Do you remember when you were into Dan? Or E? Or, oh God, Jay?” she said.

More vividly than you ever will, I thought to myself. After all, I was the one who was in love with them at one point. 

“I remember Sis. Holton at the hall used to tell you, ‘Don’t ever find yourself chasing some man. You’re the queen here, dear. That beautiful face and heart and brown skin will attract a man who will appreciate you, not these little boys you’re chasing now.'”  Sis. Holton studied the Bible with me when I was about 11 and she was about 67. She and Bro. Holton have been married over 50 years now.

“Don’t fry me for my 14 year old choices!” I laughed into my tea cup. “But I do remember that, and that life lesson came to mind when I saw Adam. If I could hit the time warp, I’d tell 14 year old me the outcome.”

“Well, I tried.” my mum said.

“You did. I didn’t understand then. But I do now.”

“It’s good to see you happy, nonetheless.”

And it hit me: when she was freaking out over my wedding arrangements a couple of months ago, and I had to talk her down from the ledge about how we are going to do all of this, it was because she wants the best for me, and she’s so poor now she can’t give me the wedding she thinks I deserve. I don’t think she quite understands that if it were up to me, Adam + I would just stand before a judge and save $5000, but a marriage is about two hearts, not just one.  It also hit me that this is the happiest news that she’s had about someone she loves in a very very long time, and that I shouldn’t rob her of that excitement. Our family had a nuclear bomb of a trial dropped on us, and it’s understandable that my mum views my engagement as the canna flowers growing after that. I’m able to show her the patience she deserves now.

After all, she’s been here for the whole rollercoaster and is eager to enjoy the view from the crest of it.

to be continued;