Mom

Mom, by Carmen McKnight

Photo by Carmen McKnight from Pexels

I want to tell you something, mom,

I want to call your phone.

My little boy tomorrow

Will turn into a man.

He’s grown, can you believe it?

I thought one day you’d meet him

But now that’ll never happen

At least not on this earth.

I can’t believe you’re gone now

I can’t accept the void

I long for your advise now

The one I used to ignore.

I long to hear your voice

And tell you of my latest choice

Of dinners cooked, furniture moved

And how I got my kidney stone removed.

How will the goal inside

Be ever filled again?

How will my broken heart

Be filled with warmth, not pain?

I want to tell you something mom.

The potato-peeler rules

Photo by Carmen McKnight from Pexels

Chet and I have our own version of “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” movie. In celebration of mother’s day to come I’ll share one story with you.

Chet, an American, came over to marry me, a Romanian, back in 1993. The revolution of 1989 and fall of communism was still fresh in our hearts.

Within the confinements of our apartment back in Hunedoara, we fed him and stared as if he was a shiny extraterrestrial object, waiting eagerly- as per our cultural expectations at the time- to see what gifts he brought along. After handing me and my mom the most beautiful red roses we’ve even seen in our lives, and now full, he pulled out the gifts he brought. Among those was a potato-peeler my mother-in-law sent to my own mom. It was the Cadillac version of potato-peelers but since we’ve never seen such a contraption we had no idea of its significants.

“This is for you from my mother.” Chet spoke through my brother Alin who became our translator.

“What is it?” Mom asked, after which Chet proceeded to explain the purpose of this very weird looking object in his hand.

“Ah, no need for that! I peel potatoes just fine with my knife, but thank your mom, it’s very kind of her to send me a present.” Chet, not giving up, proceeded to further explain how much easier her job of peeling potatoes will be with the new devise.

“Okay. Let’s have a race. I peel potatoes the way I’ve always done and you peel it with your contraption.”

“Sounds good.” Chet was prepared to win and awaited eagerly the start of the challenge. Mom brought out the burlap bag half full of potatoes and dumped them on the kitchen table.

“Go ahead.” She encouraged him as she grabbed potato after potato and began her speedy work. In front of them laid the smallest potatoes Chet’s ever seen and despite his efforts not to peel off the skin on his fingers, he realized he was in serious trouble. By the time mom peeled ten potatoes, Chet had a quarter of his done. Laughing full heartedly, mom teased him further.

“I guess I’ll keep my own ways.”
“In America the potatoes are big.” Chet clarified.

“Sure! In America everything is big!” Mom laughed while circled by twelve kids who joined in, leaving poor Chet to realize some rules in one country do not apply in another.

Hope that puts a smile on your face the way it does on mine when I remember how funny mom was:)

God Bless

Happy B-day Mom!

Sixty seven years ago a beautiful and extraordinarily strong woman was born, my mother:)

I’m hesitant to write about my mom, not because I don’t have anything to say (I have plenty) but I’m afraid I will not do her justice through my poorly expression of my love and admiration that I have for her. But I’ll try.

When I was young I did not appreciate many things about her but it took me becoming a mother to understand the many sacrifices she endured so we could have a better life. I imagine how hard must’ve been for her raising children during communism era as a christian woman, with meager earnings and little support. Modern women of today, myself including, we have unthinkable possibilities and social support, amenities that help our chore work and most likely (not everyone) supportive husbands.

I’ve learned so much from her, and even though she was tough on us at times, “she did her best to prepare us for a harsh and uneasy world” as she put it in one of our telephone conversations.

My mom worked hard, forgave a lot and always looked at the brighter side of life, despite the many hardships life provided for her. I’m so very proud of her and she gives me strength to push on when I feel otherwise. I thank God for her often:) So Happy B-day Mom! And many more healthy years to come, I pray you’ll have.

I’m sure you have an amazing mom as well. Thank God for her; she’s a priceless gift in this life.

God Bless:)

Lacrimi

Lacrimi, ca margelele, cad pe obrazul nostru ca expresie a durerii sau a bucuriei explozive. Vin, si Doamne iti multumim ca vin si curata sufletul, usurandu-ne de durere, de dezamagire sau de suferinta. Pe de alta parte, valul imens al unei bucurii traite din plin produc margele indentice pe obrazurile noastre.

Azi dimineata am aflat ca sora mea Delia si fratele meu Iulian cu sotia lui Cornelia, insarcinata cu primul copil, o fetita, au gasit-o pe mama plangand si cantand, uitandu-se in sus spre cer, pregatita de plecare la Bunul Dumnezeu unde odihna atat in trup cat si in suflet ii asteapta pe toti. Langa ea, statea tata, sprijin neincetat in ultimele zile. Doarme acolo cu ea la spital, in patul lui langa ea si are grija de ea. Delia ii viziteaza zilnic, de obicei cu bratele pline de mancaruri bune si zimbete pe fata. Mama era umflata rau din cauza toxinelor si in testul de sange iua gasit paraziti de la carne cruda, trichineloza. Lacrimi, ca margele, curg pe fetelor celor raniti si indurera-ti fie ele vizibile sau nu.

I-am dat telefon si am vorbit cu ea jumate de ora, o conversatie extrem de placuta, plina de dragoste si imbarbatare, ea in patul ei de suferinta eu in al meu. Se pare ca infectiile mele urinare in ultimele doua luni isi au un punct genetic, sau poate nu. Timpul le va descoperi pe toate. Dar lacrimi, ca margelele, de bucurie sau prelins pe fata mea numai cand i-am auzit glasul. Ce mult mi-e dor de mama. Ce distanta infernala e intre noi, dar ce posibilitati frumoase tehnologia prezinta. Mama era in dializa, si se simtea mai bine, i-am auzit zimbetul de pe fata si am stat la taifas bucurandu-ne una de alta cateva momente pretioase si pline de iubire.

Doamne iti multumesc pentru o mama asa de minunata si puternica:)

Lacrimi, ca margelele, cad de bucuria unei mame asa de minunate si ma rog pentru insanatosirea ei completa:)

P.S. Mama nu a murit, in caz ca ceva-i confuz in randurile mele se mai sus, dar inca nu-i stabilita din punct de vedere medical, are zile bune si zile foarte rele, dar noi avem speranta in Bunul Dumenzeu si ii multumim pentru toate.