The Mudder and Me

My uncle once showed a poem to me. It was one of those silly poems that a kid would like because it's, well, silly. It's called "Me Mudder".

It's about somebody's mother.

My Mother is the youngest of six and the second girl. Unlike several of her older siblings, she did not have the advantage of going to college. But she did have the advantage of family. Being the youngest, with four older brothers and a bossy older sister made her a tough cookie.

Her brothers were well known to the local constabulary. They did crazy things like drive a car into a swamp, plant a victory garden in a neighbor's yard, throw lightbulbs out the windows at their sisters and any other unfortunate passers-by. Y'know, harmless kid stuff. It was the Depression. Kids had to make their own fun out of cardboard and bushel baskets. As a result of this, my Mom learned how to take care of herself and also protected her friends from annoying and bullying boys.

Her mother, who died when my mother was only 17, was the glue that held that family together. My grandmother kept a journal, very brief, of observations of her children when they were born. All of them had nicknames. My aunt, in fact, has a nickname that might cause you to think she is a "he". I was 13 before I knew that her given name was a girl's name. It surprised the hell out of me.

My Mother's nickname is a nonsensical nickname. Her family and high school friends call her by her nickname. I do too sometimes. But most of the time I call her "Mudder".  Suits her.

When I moved to this small town three years ago, I moved closer to my parents. When I was laid off from my job a year ago, I had the opportunity to get closer to my parents. In particular, my Mudder.

The mother-daughter relationship, as all mothers and daughters know, is fraught with land mines. My Mom and I came through my adolescence pretty well. Probably because she never really grew up. She's a little crazy and that keeps her young. Sometimes, when I'm discussing her with my son, I refer to her as "that crazy old lady." That suits her too.

Lately we've been going bike riding on the occassional cool, sunny morning. We ride somewhere, find a bench, sit for a long time and chat, and then ride back to her house.  There's nothing forced about these rides. We go where we want and then have a chance to visit, catch-up and just hang out with each other.

I can't express how glad I am to have this time with my Mudder. She never got to have it with hers.  She's as big a pain in the ass as anybody's mother. But she's always there when I need her.

We're going to start scrapbooking together. The weather won't stay fine forever (this IS New England), so we'll have something to do together over tea.

I'm looking forward to it.