Zany Courage

When Mom volunteered to host a wedding shower for her friend’s daughter, I’m sure she envisioned cute games, pretty snacks, and gifts. I don’t know what got into her that day. It may have been the rum. Or more likely her stubborn rebelliousness. We were a bit scornful about some of the people on the guest list. “High-class, gossips, and two-faced” were some of the words Mom used.

The guests were a little taken aback from the beginning. Mom chose to have the party in the dingy basement furnished with old, donated couches. Meanwhile, the brand new sofa and loveseat sat untouched in the living room, bathed in sunlight. They were a dream come true; mom had made payments on the set for months before bringing it home. Some of the guests were smokers, and she didn’t want their cigarettes near her new furniture. Eyebrows raised and lips pursed as the ladies were directed downstairs.

(side note: I made a 2-inch burn on the arm of the couch with my cigarette a few months later.)

Sitting downstairs with the ladies, lusting after their cigarettes, I wondered what was taking mom so long. I was just about to go upstairs when I heard it. No – it couldn’t be. She was playing the Delirious tape. The forced small talk muted as Eddie Murphy’s voice filled the basement. “Norton my friend, how would you, like to f**k me, up the ass?” The captive audience exchanged furtive glances and craned their necks to see up the stairs. Eddie’s playful voice resonated, “I know you want to f**k me.” Nobody laughed. This was a level of awkwardness I had never encountered before.

I sat in silent discomfort. Until I saw my mom coming downstairs. On her face were the hideous glasses we had bought at the novelty store. There was something about those glasses that transformed her face into one of a very stunned, very old man. Those glasses always made us laugh. My discomfort left, replaced by awe. This woman, my mother, was epic. The stunned old man limped around the room offering a tray of cookies.

Normalcy resumed during the traditional opening of gifts, for a little while. Flowery tea towels, mixing bowls, and from the high-class, a set of crystal wine glassed that everyone fussed over. Then came mom’s gift – a board game. For Lovers Only in large cursive script and a naked couple embracing decorated the box. It seemed to be a pornographic version of Monopoly. More furtive glances around the room, but this time, at least a couple of chuckles. I reveled in Mom’s audacity.

There were some customary shower games. Mom always loved the one where items are put on a tray and players have to try to remember everything on the tray after it is taken away. We even played that years later at the baby shower she threw for me.

(sidenote: she never let anyone hold or touch my baby, lest they get their germs on him.)

I often smile when I think about Mom’s antics and crazy sense of humour. Sometimes I even laugh. I am still awed by her audacity and courage to act on her zany ideas. This Mother’s Day, when her absence crushes me, I will think about how lucky I am to have had a mother that still makes me laugh. I will remember that she is with the One who loves her the most and that I will see her again.