My
mama had her quirks that’s for sure.
She
had her superstitions that brought her fear level up to almost a panic no
matter how silly you thought them and called them
“Stupid-Stitions”. You didn’t dare use a match to light three
different cigarettes or walk under a ladder or pick up a penny that was tails
up for she feared that bad luck would manifest as the result of such
actions. I remember trying to show her that nothing bad would happen by
opening an umbrella in the house – which nothing did. Well except for my
butt from the whoopin’ I got but hey you can’t blame a girl for trying.
One
of my most told stories was about the time she and I were heading to the bus
stop to go shopping. We were cutting across the field next to our
apartment in the projects. We were talking and all of a sudden I was
jerked from where I was walking and thrown in front of her. She
apologized saying, “Sorry hun but you are not afraid of black cats.”
Once I got my bearings and realized what had happened my response was, “No
mom I’m not and you shouldn’t be afraid of them either, they are just cats, no
matter of their color.”
My
cousin Shanda and I were once playing and I accidently broke a mirror in my
mom’s overnight case that matched her suitcase. I panicked as I wasn’t up
to the whoopin’ or the lectures of being the cause of any and/or all the so-call
bad luck that might take place in our house for the next 7 years. Shanda
and I worked frantically to glue it back together. Oh the mess we made,
we clued from the back side so when the glue dried clear it was on the back and
the front of the mirror had stuck to the newspaper we were using as gluing
placemat. We cleaned it up the best we could but you could clearly see
that the mirror was broken and a botched up repair job tried to conceal
it. We put the mirror back in its rightful position in the lid of the
case and decided we better just hide the entire bag.
A
year or so later mom found the bag and she made a snide comment about finding
it with the broken mirror. I was scolded for trying to hide the fact that
I broke the mirror and tried repairing it. However nothing was mentioned
about the 7 years of supposed bad luck. I had hoped that meant that she
was learning that her “stupid-stitions” were nonsensical.
Nope,
Friday the 13th would come around and she would not leave the
house. When it was a full moon, she would hide in the house stating that
all the “crazies” would be out and about causing havoc on innocent folks.
(Even though she and my step-dad Bob would have me hiding in my room due to
their fighting about her not being able to drive his drunk ass to the gambling
halls. I wondered what was the sense of her hiding in the house when the
crazies were in the house with us. Well at least the innocent folks
outside were safe from these two crazies!)
On
New Year’s Day we had to eat black eyed peas and sardines for us to have a
prosperous year. Spilling salt would have her throwing a pinch over her
right shoulder. Oh and never think about putting that hat of yours on the
bed unless you want it thrown away as if throwing out the hat would throw out
any of the alleged bad luck that it would bring.
However
it was the non-stupid-stitious quirks that I have come to love and miss.
When
I was in grade school mom helped me with my spelling so I would ace my weekly
spelling tests. I was a horrible speller and that was the one subject mom
excelled in so she was great about getting me up on Friday mornings at 4:30 am
to help me. We would take practice tests until I got every word
correct. Then I would get a special “hot” breakfast in lieu of cold
cereal for doing what she thought was going the extra mile to get good
grades.
That
may not have been a quirk but it helped to train me for her liking to get up at
the pre-butt-crack of dawn. Her medication had her so messed up that her
sleeping schedule was way off from the rest of us living in the Pacific Standard
Time zone. She would be up at 3:00 am and in bed by 3:00 pm. Thank
God she managed to get cable to help entertain her in the wee hours of the
mornings. However there were the nights that she was the poster child for
the Springsteen’s 57 channels (and nothings on).
When
that would happen, she would make a pot of coffee, quietly tip-toe into my room
and whisper in a singsongy voice, “Get up Joela and play cards with me, I have
coffee for you…” The first couple times it happened I tried to fight it
as I didn’t have to be up until 6:30 am and those three and a half hours of
sleep made a difference when you were trying to stay awake during social
studies.
God
blessed my mama with persistence and she wouldn’t leave so I could go back to
sleep. She would poke/tickle me until I would get up. At first I
hated it however she would be such a goof ball that it became fun. I
ended up actually look forward to the 3:00 am game times. We would play
gin rummy, Yahtzee, and she taught me how to play canasta. I had her all
to myself and would get a hot breakfast out of the deal. Not too shabby
don’t ya think?
Not
sure if this falls into the quirk category and I am not sure if she would have
been called a foodie but she “LOVED HER” Mexican food. When she
would make enchiladas for dinner, she would have to save some for breakfast the
following morning or her meal wasn’t complete. (To this day I still
carry on that tradition!)
Her
calling her Mexican pork dish Chile Verde when it had a red sauce. No
matter how many times I would tell her, “Mom your white is showing, verde means
green in Spanish and that sauce is red which makes your dish Carne Roja.”
She didn’t care; it was always Chile Verde to her.
Shanda
carried on that particular tradition of calling it “Mama’s Chile Verdee”.
Over the years I have learnt not to correct her and just let it go.
What
I would hate is when mom would put over-cooked zucchini into her chile
verde. (That is one way to get me to “not” eat something, elch.)
No matter what you called it, it was a great tasting dish, at least it was
before the soggy veggies went in. When she remembered she would put some
of the non-veggie chile verde aside for me so I wouldn’t go without. It
would be several years before I found out that I actually liked fresh veggies,
they just have to be cooked al’ dente and not mushy the way mom cooked
them.
Mom
liked her food spicy hot and when I say hot I mean HOT! She would tell
the story of how she once made a deal with Aunt Margaret’s second husband Jess
Soriano that if he would buy the ingredients she would “can” some homemade
chile sauce. He laughed at her telling her that she was a white woman and
that she wouldn’t be able to make it spicy enough for a Mexican man like
him. Mom told him, “Just get the stuff and I’ll show you what this weda
can do!” Long story short, she made the macho man cry and she got to take
home all the chile sauce because he couldn’t keep up with her heat
tolerance.
When
she would can her chile sauce I would hide in my room with wet towels tucked
into the cracks of my bedroom door as she would have my eyes and throat burning
for days. Thank God that canning only took place once a year.
One
of my favorite mom stories is the one my step-dad Bob always told. We
were living out in Firebaugh on grandpa Renfro’s ranch on Nees Ave. One
of the aunts and uncles came by for an unexpected visit. It was getting close
to time for mom to start supper when Bob, exclaimed, “You know we have some
frog legs…” Before he could finish the sentence mama jumped in with, “We
don’t have any frog legs but we have steak!” She ran to the kitchen to
get the steaks all the while the freezer was plumb full of frog legs. She
would rather feed people expensive steaks over sharing her be-loved frog
legs. Years later I found the gig tool that caught those frogs however
that story was the one and only time that I ever knew about mom liking or even
having frog legs.
Thank
you for letting me share one of my "mama" stories with you. I
do want to touch on the "luck" topic today as you probably can tell I
personally don't believe in luck, good or bad. I believe in blessings and
curses.
It
is pretty simple, obedience to God brings blessings and disobedience brings curses. When we obey Him we are blessed, when we disobey Him we open the
door for satan to have his way.
Are
you one of those that feel like "If it weren't for bad luck I'd have no
luck at all"? If you are take a step back and see if your life and
daily lifestyle is in line with the word of God. Not sure? Pick up
a Bible and start reading. That book is more than just about history or a
book of stories, it is God's instruction manual for his children. It is a
spirit filled book that tells us how to live a spirit filled life. I pray you
check it out.
Until Next Time, God Bless!
Wonderful post ♡
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