Sponsor me in the 2005 MS Walk! Why? Read here.
Enough about my dad for the moment! I hope all the moms out there had a good Mother�s Day weekend. I spent almost the entire thing with my mom. The way it should have been.
Saturday morning, I met her at the house early. We had breakfast and then drove to Nana�s. As always, we cried when we first walked into the house. It�s so empty now, even with Di and Erik living downstairs. Nana always greeted us at the door with a huge smile. Now, we walk into nothing but quiet.
Our two main objectives for the day were to clean out the linen closet and bring the planter to the cemetery. Nana had nightmares about her linen closet while I was visiting her one weekend. She told me about them the next morning, �Jennifer, everyone who came in the house went through the stuff in there. It�s a mess. Promise me that you won�t let everyone dig in that stuff.� I promised. Mom and I cleaned it out ourselves.
I brought home napkins, dishtowels, pillowcases, a lace tablecloth, cotton balls, baby powder. It�s hard to throw anything away. Putting her things in the garbage is an acknowledgement of her death.
Twenty times while we were in the house, one of us looked at the other and announced again, �This really sucks.�
By the end of the day, I had another migraine. Too much sadness.
We got the planter all set up, though. Nana was the gardener among us, but we did a passable job, I think. It�s the first time I�ve been at the cemetery since the funeral. Someone keeps leaving pennies at the base of the gravestone�is that some kind of custom? I�m unfamiliar.
We went to visit my Aunt Mary and Uncle Ken, too. Aunt Mary was my grandfather�s sister. She looks like a female Papa, which is comforting and strange at the same time. Aunt Mary, in true Italian fashion, had to give us something to take home when we left. This time, we got chocolate almond biscotti and copies of a photo of Aunt Mary, Papa and their other siblings. Papa must be about 18 in the picture. This I was happy to take.
Saturday night, I bailed out of my plans, incapacitated by my headache. Instead, I laid on the couch and watched Mystic Pizza for the fifth time. Julia Roberts has an amazing amount of hair in that movie. I was asleep by 10.
Yesterday, Mom and I went to NH to Pickity Place for lunch. It was, as always, absolutely delicious. Garlic Florentine soup with French garlic croutons, six grain bread with chive butter, asparagus and tomato salad with basil vinaigrette dressing, vegetable napoleon (grilled veggies mixed with boursin cheese in puff pastry, topped with a little bit of marinara sauce) and carrots in orange butter, and macadamia nut white chocolate bars with maple whipped cream and berries.
All the plants are in bloom up there, and the garden paths are all open. We walked all through the grounds. I wanted to buy lots of plants, although I have no place to put them. File under �some day�, I suppose.
We stopped at a couple crafty stores on the way home. Overall, the day was perfect for us. Outside of the whole �let�s not talk about Nana� thing. For both of us, it was the first Mother�s Day we didn�t spend at Nana�s. How could it not be an undercurrent?
Anyway�
We had dinner with Mr. M. and his family last night. I don�t know if I�ve ever mentioned that my boss is also my neighbor. Erica, his wife, is one of my mom�s closest friends. His daughters, all three, are like my little sisters. I know the inside of their house by heart from all the times I babysat over there. Not that my being a friend of his family�s changes my job at all. But it�s nice to have an outside-the-office connection with him. I think it improves our working relationship.
So Mr. M. invited us over for a cookout. Except that when he turned the grill on, he discovered he had no gas for it, so we ended up with a cook-in. Still a nice night. Bailey, his oldest daughter, is finishing her senior year this week and was showing us her prom dress. It was a relaxed, fun evening.
Whitney, his middle daughter, is a tremendous athlete, and is finishing her first season of girl�s lacrosse, so the conversation turned to team sports. Erica asked me if I�d ever played a sport in Sharon. So we ended up with the story of Jennifer�s one team sport effort.
(And so it goes back to my dad after all�)
My freshman year of high school, the cross-country coach somehow convinced me I should run on our XC team. I�d never been exactly what you�d call athletic. I was way too clumsy for that. But my dad was so excited at the prospect of my being a part of a team that I let myself get carried along by his excitement and signed up.
From the first practice, I knew it was a mistake. I hated being on the team. The team became my life. I got up, went to school, went to practice, came home, ate dinner, did a little homework and fell into bed, exhausted. The next day, I�d do the same thing again. I didn�t talk to my friends. I didn�t participate in any other activities. I ate, studied, slept and ran. There was no room for anything else.
My dad was thrilled.
He came to every home meet and at least half the away meets.
I was a terrible runner. Hating it, I�m sure, didn�t help.
At the end of every race, though, there was my dad at the finish line, waiting to hug me and tell me how proud he was.
I kept running.
Finally, about seven or eight meets into the season, my mom came to see me run for the first time. She and Dad watched us all take off from the start and disappear across the road into the woods. Minutes went by, then the first finishers came across the line. I was, of course, nowhere among them.
Mom scanned the runners as they passed by. I wasn�t there.
The first pack of runners finished. A moment later, the second wave emerged from the woods. Still no me. Mom looked concerned. �Don�t worry, Marie. She�ll come out.� My dad stood proud.
The second group of runners finished. The girls came more slowly now, and more spread out. I was still nowhere to be seen. My mom questioned my dad. �She�s coming. Don�t worry.�
Finally, I cam straggling out of the woods. My dad pointed. �See, there she is!�
My mom was horrified. �Roy, she�s crying!�
He dismissed her. �It�s okay. She does that. It�s fine.�
That night, my mom told me I could quit the team. She apologized repeatedly for making me go, for supporting something that obviously caused me anguish. She promised me she�d deal with my dad.
I finished the season. I couldn�t bear the thought of disappointing him.
I cried my way to the end of every race.
I never joined another sports team.
Sophomore year, I joined the drama club. I was assistant director for all our shows, the only girl on tech crew, the only student in the school with my own set of keys to the stage area.
He came to see the plays because my mother told him he had to.
I am so lucky to have her. Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I love you.
---------------------------------------------
Something to say about this entry?
Add your comments here (0 people have spoken already)
< We meet Travis | I will worry all day >
