I am sitting in my very happy place working from home. Without distraction, I can easily accomplish several projects for my office in my very lush and comfortable space. A warm cup of coffee and my music playing completes this very holy space. Then the phone rings and the caller ID indicates my Mom is calling.
Before I go further, let me preface by saying I love my mother very dearly. I am the person I am today because of her “tough Amy Chau” love. An Italian immigrant, she came to this country at the tender age of five and was thrust into 1st grade not knowing the language. A foreigner in a country that was so alive and vibrant, she did the best she could to adapt to the American way without loosing who she was. I admire her strength and courage and I am so very thankful that she can enjoy retired life with my dad and all of her grandkids.
And now for the BUT……….
The woman has a way to drive me insane and instantly make me feel sixteen again – and not in a carefree kind of way. Every time the phone rings mid-week with my mother on the other end, the Caller ID mocks me with its announcement of her call. And the one-way conversation almost always goes something like this:
Me: “Hi Mom”
Mom: “How did you know it was me calling?”
Me: “Caller ID” (which mind you, she knows I have)
Mom: “So why didn’t you call me?”
Me: ” I spoke to you yesterday. It hasn’t been 24 hours yet.”
Mom: “So I was thinking we should cook salmon for dinner next week when I am over. Do you know how to work the grill?” (translation: make sure your husband is home to turn on the grill and don’t step foot into the kitchen while I am cooking)
Me: “It’s only Thursday and next week is over 5 days away.”
Mom: “Have you spoken to your brother?”
And this my friends, happens without fail week after week. Food and menus and meal planning consumes my mother in a way, I simply cannot grasp. Just last week, my husband and I hosted my side of the family for a “barbecue” for Mother’s Day. The minute I invited the entire family, the barrage of calls from my mother and aunts ensued weeks in advance. Dozens of phone calls and conversations consumed us with regards to the meal.
In the end, I was assigned to “make a salad” and the only aspect of the event being a barbecue was the physical presence of the grill in the yard. Dishes upon dishes of exquisite foods filled our table and all of the meats that would normally be consumed at a BBQ never made it out of my freezer.
Several days ago, after yet another call from my Mom, my daughter looked at me and said, “Please don’t call me when you are an old lady and ask me what’s for dinner.”
Only time will tell……..