Retro Blog: What Mom gave me and what I took

You may have noticed that I mention my father in my articles to a fair extent.

I find it amusing to goad my sire as regularly as possible because there is an off chance he will reply.

His replies are usually, at least, moderately amusing. I am pretty sure my warped sense of humor comes almost exclusively from my father. Most of the time what I find amusing about my mother’s humor is what she finds funny.

I also got logic and the ability to dissect a problem from my father.

So what did I get from my Mom?

A lot.

First, and most importantly, I got my sense of compassion from my mother. Mom is the type that really cares about your comfort and well-being (sometimes annoyingly so, but she got that “hovering” thing from her mother). Sometimes I wish I had more of the empathy of which she is capable of—it might have helped with that last sentence.

While I can’t attribute whatever small writing ability I have solely to either parent (both write fairly well), Mom seems to express herself more poetically.

Any sense of adventure and “zest for life” I have, I got from Mom. Mom likes to spontaneously go places and do stuff.

Dad likes to go places and see things too, but he has normally been more of the “plan it out” type.

I got that too.

My love for a vast and varied array of food I definitely got from Mom. Dad likes what he likes and that’s pretty much it. I can hop from a sushi bar to a Thai place, and from an Indian dive to a Mexican hole-in-the-wall. Let’s just say world cuisine intrigues me more than scares me.

Possibly because of this shared epicurean love, my mother and I also share a *cough* slight weight problem.

I am pretty sure any civic mindedness and desire to do any community service came from my mother.

Mom spent 30 years working for the state of Texas in the family/welfare services trying to help folks who needed it. Please don’t ever try to tell me all the money spent on social programs is wasted, unless you really want an argument, because I know my mother did good works in that area.

While I am on the subject of work, I most likely got most of my ability to work hard from my mother too.

Obviously, no one gets all of one quality or another from one parent. However, if you can be objective, you can tell where you get the majority of a specific quality from.

That only covers the biological stuff …

Since my parents were divorced, Mom was cast as single mother. In that role she busted her tail to raise two sons. While we never had a lot of money, Mom made sure we had the proverbial roof over our heads and food in our bellies. We even managed to have fun as Mom would take us to the local parks, sunken gardens and museums.

Mom was also fiercely protective.

Mom was driving our old Toyota Corolla through a rough part of town one day and my younger brother and I were were crammed into the passenger seat with me on the door side (there was a time when kids could sit where they pleased in a car without anyone giving you a ticket for it). I was about eight at the time and my brother was four. We were singing along with the radio and generally enjoying a warm spring afternoon with the windows rolled down a bit when a rock came whizzing through the small opening in the driver’s side window. It flew past my mother’s face and impacted squarely on my brother’s arm.

My Mom slammed on the brakes, did a U-turn and headed straight back for the convenience store where the rock must have come from. As we entered the parking lot I could see the black kids gathered out front scattering.

Mom got my bawling brother and his now swollen and red arm out of the car and took him inside the convenience store to give the owner a piece of her mind regarding the hooligans hanging around the establishment.

Remembering the people still hanging around outside the convenience store, I have spent some time considering whether this move was foolhardy or brave. In either case, I have decided to be proud of my mother for standing up for what she thought was right.

It wasn’t until I was well into my own adulthood when I learned that in the performance of her duties with Adult Protective Services, that she took a shotgun away from an ex-Marine.

Stupid or courageous? More likely just the ability to be undeterred in doing what needed to be done.

She was always doing stuff like that.

Mom has asked me during my adulthood if there was anything she could have done better as a mother.

Let me answer that question like this: We knew we were loved (and still know it), we were always taken care of and we grew up to be fairly decent adults.

So, Mom ... you did good.