Down Memory Lane

I had several long conversations with my mother on the telephone this weekend.

I was sort of wound up. She was sort of wound up. So we talked for some marathon sessions. It’s a good thing that I have one of those telephone plans that permit me to talk anywhere in the Continental USA for free! I also have tons of rollover minutes on my cellphone plan…so I used those minutes too!

Mom is still upset about the divorce….about Lovey….and all the perceived wrongs that she believes I have had to endure.

Apparently there are many things that I have put out of my mind. Thankfully. But, there is nothing wrong with mother’s mind. She has a memory like a steel trap. She’d start off a conversation with something like, “Did you remember when Lovey did this?” or “Do you remember how Lovey did that?”

When mom would begin the story, I’d remember. The pain….the emotional dreariness all came back…and I remembered – fullforce.

One particular thing that I remember is how Lovey and I could be in separate ends of the house – me doing my thing….she doing her’s. When something would go wrong…regardless…it suddenly became my fault. “FRANK!!!” would be the refrain. It was generally spoken slightly raggedly….and with great aggravation.

I do not miss this.

One time my parents had come for a visit. The kids were scurrying around trying to get out the door to school. Somehow a juice glass had fallen down the drain.

Lovey was notorious for not checking what was in the disposal. She flipped the switch and we had an instantly shattered glass.

“FRANK!!!!” came the scream.

I ran in….and Love was in tears. The juice glass in the sink was my fault…..and she made it clear that I was to stick my hand into the disposal to retrieve all the broken glass.

I looked at her and said, “Look, CALM DOWN! I’ll take care of it.”

She was muttering to herself and was quite upset.l I went to the basement and retrieved my shop vac. Voila! In just a few second, all the broken glass was sucked out of the disposal.

One of many special moments that my mother reminds me of periodically.

Ah! Memory Lane