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.
2 comments:
Priceless moments talaga ang conversations with our mother. :) Sometimes, it doesn't need to make sense, and yet we feel there's a connection.
naalala ko ang nanay ko sa post mong ito....
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