Sunday Reads: Open House Open ThreadPosted: July 9, 2017
I hope you bear with me today, because I am a mess. My Ma goes into surgery on Tuesday…many of you know that this surgery is her only hope because she is unable to continue with the chemotherapy treatments. Her body just cannot handle the onslaught of drugs, and with her compromised liver, this surgery takes on an even greater risk.
I’ve shared that photograph above so many times. I can’t help it. I love that picture. It is my mom, in flat-out defiance of the rules…smoking in a non-smoking zone. She is wearing a Make Your Move t-shirt while my brother, who does not look to enthusiastic (actually he looks a bit pissed and fed up) …my brother is there standing next to her.
It was taken in the late 70s at a Dr. Hook concert at the Tampa Fair Grounds. I can remember this concert vividly, because later that evening, my mom ended up getting a huge splinter stuck in her ass from the bleachers. Let’s just say she looked more like my brother Denny by the end of the night.
I’ve told this story before, I feel like we are a family, and today we are having a little open house. Stop by and visit my mama before she has her surgery…just in case.
But that is what is really happening today.
I got up early to make the escachata (you know the Sicilian style pizza). We are having Italian sausage and cheesecake. Come by after 3:30…this afternoon. Ma is sleeping now, I hear her snoring. I swear it is like preparing for some pre-surgery wake.
I don’t know… the Prozac ain’t going to be enough today.
My fingers smell like the anchovies that I’ve cut up for the black olive and roasted garlic pizza. There is so many smells I associate with memories of my childhood, this is one that doesn’t really have any connection…yet. Because you see, even though I am 47 years old, I am still a child. My mom is still here to help me. She is still around to clean up after me as I slice up those anchovies, and the onions and black olives. She washes the knives and bowls for me as I peel the garlic. She makes me a cup of coffee, and she rinsed out the cup. Mama is still there for me.
Even now, when I am having a bad migraine, she comes to see how I am doing. She is sick most of the time herself…but she is there for me.
So today we have this open house, my mom is sleeping, resting up before the show begins. And I am sitting waiting for the pizza dough to rise…my mind is blank. It is pounding. Not a void, that would be welcoming. It is blank with worry.
I still want to be a child come Wednesday. Does that make any sense? I’m 47 and I don’t want to grow up. I still want my mom there to make me a cup of coffee and wash out my bowl. Because it means more than rinsing out a cup… there is something to that supportive understanding that is part of an identity. I don’t want to lose my mom. And I am really scared.
Today is an open thread, feel free to post what you want below. Here are a few links to get you started:
Well, see you all later, if I can get around…probably won’t be until late tonight.