Courtesies to one's mother --9-14-10

It really doesn't matter what your mother looks like or whether she lives in Appalachia or Charleston, Missouri. She is still your mother and she thinks that her children should put her first in their lives, when the waning opportunities to do so so still come to the forefront of their lives.

It all came back so hard on me on Sunday. I remembered the words of my mother and the stinging telephone call I got from her (for which she paid--a rarity but I knew that she meant business.) The truth is I never truly understood that call until last Sunday.

I had been talking to my sister, Julia, who lived in the same town as my Mother and she wanted me to come home for something that was not related to family business. I said I would come--it was something for Mr. Moss's retirement from teaching--and I told her to call Mrs. Moss and tell her I would be there. I did not think another time about it. Thought I was being very efficient and all and that I could do this and see Mama and she would be thrilled that I was in Charleston. Wrong move. Perhaps right reason, or semi-right, convenient reason. Sinfully wrong order of arrangements.

My mother went to her church meeting and a couple of people mentioned that I was going to be there, including Julia who announced it to Mrs. Moss. When I picked up the phone that afternoon, I was spared no words from a mother who had been angered and hurt by a discussion about her child's planning that she had heard second-hand. She told me what happened and I said I was looking forward to seeing her. It did not dissuade her and it never, yet, hit me how I had screwed up. Mama said, "When you are coming to see me, I don't want to hear it from one of your sisters or have it announced in a public place and I am sitting there knowing nothing about it. You owe me the courtesy to let me know first what is going on in your life and I will do the sharing with your sisters and everyone else! I am your only mother!"

I partially understood. But I thought it was because she was somewhat housebound and liked to have some news to tell. I did not realize the trust I had misplaced or the respect that I had denied her in not allowing her to be first in my Charleston circle of trust. But, I never did this again. Not once. I called her first and allowed her to share what she wanted when she wanted with whom she wanted about HER child.

This week, a similar hurt was heaved on me when I learned, by happenstance, that my granddaughter was coming in to Cape for a week to take care of her second cousin (on my side) and would be staying there with the cousin. I felt the same way--hurt, bewildered, angry. I felt like saying to her the same thing: "You owe me the courtesy to let me know first what is going on in your life...I am the only grandmother you have in Cape Girardeau!" And whether I ever say it or not, I still feel the sting I know that my mother felt so long ago!