Prose by Josephine Miles (1911-1985), Titled: Belief
Mother said to call her if the ‘H’ bomb exploded
And I said I would, and it about did
When Louis my brother robbed a service station
And laid cursing on the oily cement in handcuffs.
But by that time it was too late to tell Mother,
She was too sick to worry the life out of her
Over why, why. Causation is sequence
And everything is one thing after another
Besides, my older brother Eddie, had got to be President,
And you can’t ask too much of one family.
The chances were as good for a good future
As bad for a bad one.
Therefore it was surprising that, we hid the newspapers from mother,
She died feeling responsible for a disaster unverified,
Murmuring in her sleep as it seemd, the ancient slogan
Noblesse oblige.
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I have read a lot of prose & poetry in my time. This tidbit I just discovered today. After I read it, I knew I wanted to share it. For me it brought up memories of the day, during second grade, when my instigating buddy Rex and I skipped school in lieu of swimming in the local brook. My dear ma was so distraught at my unaccountable absence that she passed out and collapsed on the sidewalk. The paramedics had to make a house-call to bring her back around. Obviously, needless to say, that’s a day I regret.
HOW DID YOU WORRY YOUR MOTHER ?
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Comments: 36
Keep on going on ;-o
One that instantly comes to mind is finding out I am allergic to anything that flies and stings. Very allergic.
I got stung on the LIP of all places and wound up being rushed to the ER. I think I was about 6.
But the worst of those events was when I was 14. I had a summer job helping clear a field. I ran a lawnmower over a yellow jacket nest in the ground. When they finally CAUGHT me during my panic-sprint to get all of my clothes off, I'd been stung 74 times. I stopped breathing twice on the way to the ER, and spent several days in the hospital.
That's only one of the times I cheated death before adulthood, but that was probably the scariest for me.
I fell asleep in the back of my uncle's bright crimson, convertible Cadi in 1974. I was 6. I loved that car and it's big ol' back seat (can't remember the year of the car).
It was really late when he left and no one noticed I was missing. I traveled through three states all the way home with him before anyone figured out where I was.
LOL. That was my first plane flight. Home. I thought mother was going to kill me when she finally got her hands on me, but all she did was cry and hug me.
However, even though I told him the story of the great beer theft caper that I pulled off at the age of 15, he still started asking me for advice and elevated me in the unsavory and obvious way he had of designating favourites.
I suppose it is not a real mystery how this happened. I gave him his first grandson and ensured the family name for at least one more generation.
Mom always saw me the same way, her baby.
I think the only times my Mother worried about me was once when I was three and had wandered off and went into the bar. I was being given pop and candy and she came in and switched me on the legs with a tree branch all the way home. Obviously I didn't learn much, I've spent 25 years playing in dance bands in bars. She was proud of me then.
The second time she worried about me that I know of is when I was sent to the teacherage to take a nap. (She was a school teacher in a country school at the time.) I ate 52 tablets of ex-lax because I craved chocolate. Never went through, just prolapsed my bowel.
When she was on her death bed I told her to go ahead and go, that I'd be alright. She took one more breath and then died. So she must have worrried about me more than I thought. I was a rebellious little piece of work. Still am in spots.
Barbara S.
Loving you anyway
As for worrying my dear MOM, let me count the ways. I have always been a free spirit and adventurous and as such found it difficult adhering to curfews. If I had to be home at a certain time and I was late 15 minutes and get chewed out for doing so the next time I would be 30 minutes late because I knew that I was going to get into trouble for that anyway so as it continued 1 hour turned into 2 and then ultimately not coming home from partying at all. I wouldn't say that I was rebellious as much as I would call myself adventurous. I didn't get into arguments with my Parents I just did what I wanted to and went on my merry way. My Dad was far too strict and my Mom was my best friend and she tried to be more lenient. In the end, I realized that I was wrong for worrying my Mom and Dad.
The time hasn't stopped where my Mom has stopped worrying. Its as if time has stood still and she still worries incessantly. Too many instances where what I did or said could have been avoided in order to spare her any pain, suffering, grief or worry but alas the days of worry for her still continue and much to my chagrain. I don't intentionally seek out to worry her, things just happen and she is just a gold medal worrier, I guess.
I am sorry MOM!
The poem was great. It makes me think of my Mother-in-law actually. She's got all kinds of stories about my hubby & his brothers...