May 02, 2005
My pickup truck-driving days may be numbered. I assumed ownership of a 2001 Chevrolet Impala yesterday. The car has only 10,000 miles on it and still smells new on the inside. It's never been driven outside the state of Georgia. Hell, it's never been driven outside of Chatham and Effingham counties.
That was my mama's car. It's mine now.
I really don't need a truck anymore, now that I'm no longer hauling supplies for the mini-farm, and that car is a real cherry. My brother suggested that I have it, even though I offered to sell it and split the money with him. But this ain't about money.
When I drove the car home yesterday, I found one of mama's hats in the back seat. She acquired a good collection of ridiculous hats when she was made bald-headed by the chemo treatments before she died. I hung that hat on my living room wall, just as a reminder of the kind of woman my mama was.
Bejus, but I miss her.
I should be delighted with my new car, but somehow I feel dirty for taking it. I didn't want anything mama had. I wanted Mama. But there is a lot of other stuff in the house that she went through before she died and stuck post-it notes on, informing people about who she wanted to have the things. My name is on a lot of that stuff, but I don't have the heart to pick through it now.
Mama saw the end coming and did everything she could to get all of her shit in one sock. I wonder what she was thinking when she put those notes on all those things? Facing death herself, she still tried to keep from inconviencing anybody else.
That was my mama.
As Lewis Grizzard used to say: "Every son should call his mama every day...I wish I could..."
I have one room in my house full of all the things of loved ones I've lost. In time, you will be able to look at those things with fond memories. That's what your mama was thinking when she put those post it notes on things. Pick up the things with your name on it and everytime you look at them remember how much your mama loved you.
Hey, man. What is wrong with you? Your Mama gave you those things because she WANTED you to have them. Whenever she gave you something in the past, did you treat the gift that way? She gave that to you because she wanted you to have it. Isn't that right? And she got that "feel good" feeling from knowing you had something of hers. So use the things she left behind, marked "for you", and be PROUD of it.
Just because your Mama isn't here where you can call her up on the phone doesn't mean she isn't alive. She is. And she is still loving you every moment. Distance does not make her any less, nor her love any less. Distance is all "going home" is.
My Mom went home in 1995. Knowing that I can't call her on the phone or visit with her hurts my heart, but it doesn't change her feelings for me or my feelings for her.
And if your Mama is anything like my Mom, I bet she'd do her level best to kick her butt, if you continue to treat a gift from her in that manner.
You will see your Mama again. A promise is a promise.
Hold to it.
That's YOUR BUTT not hers.. sorry, typo.
Just enjoy the car you daft man. That is what your mother wanted.
I just lost my dad on April 5 (he was only 57). I wanted to have things I knew he used in his everday life. I have his Zippo lighter, a piece of paper that he wrote my address and phone number on, some of his shirts and a bottle of his Old Spice aftershave. I wear his class ring on a chain and tell him I love him everyday.
The sweet way you write about your mother always brings a tear to my eye. It's very touching.
Drive the car with pride and affection. Send the truck to me.
Acidman, it has been over 20 years since I lost both my parents. I have a few things from both of them. I don't look at them everyday, but when I do, it brings back some of the fondest memories. Go grab that stuff before you live long enough to regret it.
The few things I have left of my mother's possessions (she died in March 1980, on her birthday), I treasure. In fact, recently, I started using some of her vintage snack sets (remember when canasta and other card games and afternoon tea and sandwiches were common, since most women worked in the home, not outside of it). I decided to use them and if I break one or two, so be it. There's no sense in them gathering dust in my china cabinet!
Drive your mother's car with pride, you already have an onboard guardian angel. I would tell you to "drive it like you stole it," but I suspect, being a GUY, you already probably pretty much drive that way anyhow.
And the important question, which will take careful consideration on your part:
What shall you name the car, Rob?
The only thing your Mama was doing was thinking how much she loved you.......pure and simple, Rob. Nothing fancy or extraneous, just pure love! Enjoy them and recall all your fond memories....it works !!
PB has had to go through some of that when we thought he might not make it, so we know about that. Although mot of my memories of my Mom are not the best, they are locked in the old cupboard; the only ones I look at now are the good ones!