Mom Raised Me To Be Thankful

“Thanksgiving, after all, is a word of action.” —W.J. Cameron

She was poised, in every meaning of the word.

A dozen years ago, for the ThanksGiving holiday, my wife and I drove to Osprey, a monied suburb south of Sarasota, to share an important holiday dinner with my mother. I was raised to believe this is how good people celebrate.

Mom lived in a stylish studio apartment in an twelve-story-high old folks’ home.  And, holy pickleball, was she old.  Hell, I’m old, so you can just imagine.

But there was so much life in the super-annulated girl still.  Her long-time boyfriend had recently dumped her and now she’s on the prowl – albeit slowly with her walker – for a replacement.  The nonagenarian bastard – who was driving a cream-colored Lexus he basically stole from my mother – dumped Mom for somebody more mobile.

I was hoping to inherit that car, in the unlikely event I outlived my mother.

Let’s be honest, for the ladies, pickings must be pretty slim at the home. Oddly, the criteria is strikingly similar to those of a female teenager, i.e., does he have his driver’s license?

Mom was also feverish to go Christmas shopping. You might say, she had THE NEED TO FEEL SOME MERCHANDISE.

I tried to convince her to wait until mid-January, thereabouts. Prices will be lower.

She could care less.

And she had a television. A telephone, too. 

You should see the packages that show up.

Waiting until the dining room opens, Mom hands Topaz a gift bag. It’s a plastic steamer. Removes wrinkles in clothes. No woman should be without one. Mom was excited by all the many uses. Turns out it was Buy One, Get One free. Turns out – surprise! – Mom had the same steamer.

“It’s a Joy Mangano design,” Mom informed us proudly. “Women fall to their knees in front of Joy because of her labor-saving inventions.”

I nodded approvingly.

The wife said, “I can just imagine.”

“All my hangers, Joy designed those,” Mom continued. “When you inherit those hangers, they’ll be as good as new.”

My mother thought the jewelry channel was “educational.”

Home Shopping Network was “entertaining.”

Can’t help wondering, if parents have tools to control TVs and computers so young children can’t access pornography, why can’t adult children have tools to ensure their parents don’t have shopping channels on speed-dial?

We later supplied Mom – because I was raised like that – with a computer, which we won’t go into right now. Suffice to say, she would press the button… again and again. And, oh, the packages.

Another thing.  If Mom found a new boyfriend, just what was she going to do with him?

Guessing their first date would involve a trip to the mall. Still have PTSD about the time we put her on the escalator.

“Oh, look!  The mailroom is open!!”

I give thanks to all those I love and care about. Especially those who love me back. I was raised that way. Give thanks, too, for the memories of loved ones still and forever cherished. 

Happy ThanksGiving to you and yours. – Jack Dog & The Young Redhead