A few weeks ago I had a conversation with my mother about Blogging. You can read it here.
At that time I asked my readers to select their preferred name for her ‘Post Titles’ when I share her thoughts.
It was almost unanimous:
The Crazy On Main Street
“So let it be written, so let it be so”~ a dialogue line for Pharaoh in Cecile B DeMille’s The Ten Commandments which reminds me of a few times in my youth when she would lay the hammer down on me, so it seemed sorta appropriate here, which really means I can’t get her voice out of my head “Cheryl ANNNNNNNN!”. Oh boy… I’m screwed.
Before we begin, I need to include a little backstory: My maternal grandparents were French Canadian and we fondly called them Memè and Pepè, which is a shortened version of grand-mère and grand-père.
Here my mother shares a memory…
I am my father’s daughter with my mother’s eyes.
I feel their presence sometimes unexpectedly. They are standing on the roadside smiling at me lovingly.
They are such good people, always encouraging, questioning, not judging, just saying, “Be smart. Use your head and God Bless. What ever you decide to do we trust you and go ahead and take a chance. We love you always.”
Pepè was a wiry little Frenchman who was loved by kids because he let them be little tigers before he told them “Out of my way! Go home and eat your supper. See you tomorrow!”
I would go fishing with Pepè for hours and not get a bite. I would sit beside him on Cape Cod and share raw oysters on the half-shell. I know he liked me a lot.
Memè couldn’t bake a pie (even with help) but cookies, that was different. In her French accent- “Kids, eat and don’t worry about supper. You can eat supper tomorrow. Supper will always be there. My cookies? Maybe, maybe not.”
Once a year I would attempt to make a Vogue outfit that wouldn’t fit right. Memè made it fit. I knew she liked me a lot.
The next time I see them I’ll wave back and say,”I love you- a whole lot.”
Me too Mom. Me too.