SAY WHAT YOU MEAN TO SAY

Mom and I just got back from an frazzled eventful weekend getaway to the Hill Country.

I had been planning this trip for months. The beautiful daughter of my beloved childhood friend was getting married in Boerne, and I was looking forward to getting away from my crazy family the hustle and bustle to spend a few days of poop-free talk peace and quiet in a cozy hotel room.

Three days before leaving, my Mama decided she didn't want to be left behind with those Haney boys wanted to come along for the ride.

“Now, if you want to go by yourself... just let me know. But I would really would like to go with you.”

How could I say no to my Mom? I couldn't.  

So, I said,  “Uh... sure, Mom. There is nothing I would rather do than enjoy my own company a road trip with you --- we'll have fun!

By the time I got through packing her copious amounts of crap necessary items into the car, it looked like I had loaded up the truck to move to Beverly.

Hills, that is.

After strategically packing three suitcases, two hanging bags, one walker, a wheelchair, breathing machine, portable O2 tank, and assorted medication dispensers... I had to break the bad news to Mom that we would not be able to bring her fan.

“What if I get hot?” she asked? “My ovulating fan doesn't take up that much space.”

“First of all, Mom... fans do not ovulate. They oscillate. Second of all, I outweigh you by 50 35 pounds and sweat like a pig in a bacon factory way more than you do. If I don't need a fan, you don't need a fan.”

“But I like the noise. What if you snore?”

“I'll try really hard to hum instead of snore.”

“Hummpf.  You probably haven't even oscillated in years...” she said.

I prayed for patience and an attitude transplant adjustment all the way to Happy, Texas.

:) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)

As we passed Tulia I wondered how I could have forgotten just how much fun Mom is on a road trip, with her hilarious perspective on life and her penchant for eating like a third grader on steroids.  

My Mama is the perfect co-pilot.

By the time we got to Plainview, I was laughing so hard I had to stop and pee answer nature's call.

“Wait til you're my age,” Mama warned. “Nature doesn't call you, she sneaks up on you and squeezes your bladder before you can get to the toilet.”

Right outside of Abilene we passed the giant turbine wind farms and Mom observed, “I wonder if anybody ever parachutes around here...”

“No, Mom. I'm pretty sure this is a parachute-free zone.”

“Well, if it's not it certainly should be.”

:) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)

I was a little worried about leaving her unsedated alone for so long while I went to the wedding.

“I'm going to call your cell phone to make sure you can hear it ringing”, I explained to her as I dialed her number.

After three rings, she looked over at her phone and said, “Is that my phone? Are you calling me, now? Am I supposed to answer?”

“No, Mom. I'm just checking... it rings just fine. You have to promise you'll call me if you need anything.”

She opened her antiquated handy dandy flip phone and said, “Oh. It looks like I missed a call from you recently. I'm sorry.”

“It was now, Mom. I called you just now.”

“Oh.  What did you want?”

I made a food run for her before the wedding. She ordered fried chicken and gravy and a coke and Rocky Road ice cream. And Cheetos's, please. 

Never mind that she is on a low salt / no caffeine diet. I hooked her up like the enabler obedient daughter that I am.

A couple of hours later, I called from the wedding to check on her. She answered on the third ring, TV blaring, crunching in my ear.

“You doing okay, Mom?” I asked.

“Sure! I've eaten everything in the room and I'm watching a Sylvester Stallone movie marathon. You stay just as long as you want.  And bring me a hot fudge sundae on your way home!”

After the wedding, I returned to the hotel to find my 79 year old Mama sitting up in bed, surrounded by empty food containers and smiling back at Stallone like a besotted teenager with grease on her chin.

“I see what you've done. You've had yourself a food and Sly orgy while I was gone. What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?”

“It was fun! There's a Spook-A-Thon on tomorrow night. Let's stay another day.”

:) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)

Was it an easy weekend? Heck no.

Relaxing?? Hardly.

But being there to watch Vicki pin that veil on her daughter... 

... reminded me of all the trillion million ways my own Mom has exquisitely cared for me and loved me throughout my life.

Between Callie getting hitched and Mama getting high on Rocky and Rocky Road, it was an absolutely perfect weekend. 

And I really do mean it.

Ovulating Oscillating wind farms and all.