On this coming Wednesday, Mom would have been 81. It’s tough to lose someone while you’re thinking about their birthday but God’s timing, while mysterious, is divine. She was called home when it was time. But I certainly miss her.
Mom was everybody’s mom. My friends, Donna’s friends, the kids she babysat for, and their parents who they called Nana. She was a wise sage who always knew what to do and had a word of advice for you, sometimes whether you liked it or not.
Another thing about her is she always managed to be cool without seeming like she was trying to be. She was well traveled, especially when it came to the Caribbean. She always knew the latest songs and dances. I was always like, “Mom, what you know about what?” She’d say, “Cause I’m hip!” That energy drew people in. They loved to have her around. Even in old age, she wasn’t an old lady.
For almost 38 years of my life, until we parted ways when she moved to PA and me to MD, she was never more than a few feet away either in the same apartment or when I moved to the apartment downstairs and when your parent is that close in proximity for so long, you can’t help but build a strong bond. Mom was strict. I had a bedtime until I graduated high school. Now, I wish I had someone to make me go to bed because now I fight it every single night. She never let me hang out on the corners, I had to be in the house before the street light came on, I couldn’t leave the block when I was playing with my friends, I couldn’t climb gates, and other random things I couldn’t do. For the most part, I listened and, to this day, I still can’t climb a gate. Thanks, Mom.
But, in hindsight, it was all from a place of love. She wanted the best for me. Mom wasn’t the softest woman but she always did anything she did out of love. She always had my back, even if she gave me a hard time about it first.
We always had our greatest moments with food. Whether it was our monthly breakfast date, family holiday gatherings, summer BBQs, or us going out for ice cream, she and I always bonded most when food was around. But the food was just a part of it, it was spending that quality time, the laughter, the long talks, and bonding where the real joy came from. Except for her fried chicken, that was definitely about the food.
I was lucky enough to have her fried chicken for the last time this past summer. I even recorded her cooking it and, for a moment, the old Janie was back. The muscle memory kicked in and there was no Alzheimer’s present. It brought me back to our years on 150 Bidwell and I felt myself choking up just watching her. And, true to fashion, it was GOOD.
That was the 1st of my last 2 memories with her, the 2nd one being in November, when Mom, Donna, my wife Ivy, and my second parents came together for Thanksgiving and my father-in-law’s birthday. It was a moment for the nuclear and extended family to connect for what would have been the last time and that memory holds an even more special place in my heart now because it would be the last time I saw her alive.
Mom, thank you for everything you’ve done for me…and I know I’ll see you again but I hope it’s not for a LONG time. When you left us, I’m glad you still had most of who you were. God didn’t let Alzheimer’s take that from you. I love you so much. Rest in peace.
-Your Son, Marc