Friday, July 27, 2012

cups of insanity.

It was one of those afternoons where in a kick of coffee was not enough without a dose of conversation. I was with my Mom who I think was as drunk with boredom as me. She was on the bed while I was on a chair toying the idea of either sleeping or reading. My Mom and I conversed a lot about anything, from the most banal things in life to her most complicated problems like past pregnancies, business and old age. She never ran out of stories. I never ran out of ears. I love listening, don’t I?

It was one of those afternoons as I told you: a mug of coffee and a book covering my face. I finally decided to kill a book. She was on the bed feigning sleep and I was there waiting for the moment she ignites the start of a conversation that knows no ending. Unless she ends it, or someone shouts “It’s cooked!” I am a light conversationalist. A lot of it will make me drool or utter inaudible expletives. “Mike?!”, she said. “Hey, Hitler!”, I nearly shouted out of surprise. I never expected she could be that enthusiastic.

“What book are you reading?”, she asked me nonchalantly as if we were not in the room for an hour already. Peeking on the edge of the book, I looked at her, “A book of a crazy author.” I thought I heard a cricket peed. My Mom was silent for a century.

Earlier this morning, I was watching Sybil, a film about a woman having multiple personality disorder. My Mom was there walking to and fro throwing questions about the movie. Answering them while watching the movie (let alone understanding it), for me, was like sleeping in a Kafkaesque dream. But God gifted me with patience even He, could envy for. I still listened. And compelled myself to answer her questions. 

I sipped my coffee. “You’re reading that?! Why do you like crazy stuff? You watched something crazy this morning and now, you’re reading “crazy”!”, she bashed like she’s a member of the JBC  (Judicial and Bar Council). I sipped my coffee again. “Nakakaaliw kasi eh at nakakagaan ng isip.” (It is amusing and it lightens my mind.), was all I could muster.

“Birds of the same feather talaga kayo (You’re really birds of the same feather). You flock together. Nababaliw ka na rin (You’re going crazy also).” And she left her bed.

I sipped my coffee and smiled. Mother knows best.


Rah said...

Priceless moments talaga ang conversations with our mother. :) Sometimes, it doesn't need to make sense, and yet we feel there's a connection.

Arvin U. de la Peña said...

naalala ko ang nanay ko sa post mong ito....