My Mother's Life Dedicated to the Only Woman I'll Love, My Mother.

At dinner the other night, we start reminiscing about the old times, back in Edmonton. I kind of wish those days were still around. I mean, we weren’t what you would call well off, or anything, but we were okay. Bills weren’t a picnic, but then paying them wasn’t a juggling act either.

Dad worked at a Hotel, and Mom’s brother and sister in law lived in the same city. We were close, and both her (Mom’s sister in law) and Mom were plain speaking people. They spoke their minds, which was nice, and yet, you knew, that when you crossed a line with either, you were in deep shit.  They had the patience of Saints, but that isn’t what we were remembering.

Dad’s mother, was a bit of a control freak. She also was lonely, I guess, and hated being left out of anything, including what her little boy was doing. Course Dad was in his fifties then, but that didn’t matter to her. She hated to be left out, so if we went out, she would invariably want to come along.

Many times we were stuck with her, but you know, it really wasn’t all that bad. Bit cramped, but hell, it was okay and we still managed to have fun.

But Friday nights were different. That was our time to go out, do things on the spur of the moment, without any pre planned idea of what it was, we were going to do.   Now, in order to do that, we would have to wait around till Dad’s mom went to sleep. 

That meant we had to wait for her final call of the evening, when she’d phone, asking what we were doing, for the umpteenth time that day ( and every day. She called a lot, 15 to 20 times a day. Now you know why I say Mom has the patience of a Saint. lol ) and so we would say getting ready for bed, or waiting for the news to come on.

It was generally after 9, just before 10, when she’d call.

Mom’s brother and sister would be over by then too, sitting and chatting in the living room. Dad would get home around 9, and always, talk about how tired he was, and that he was going to lay down.  Course, ya know that didn’t happen, or remain that way.

See, soon as that call came in, we got our coats on, and were ready to leave. We’d tell Dad we were heading out, and he’d call us all nuts, but then, yell to wait for him, while he got dressed. Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it? He didn’t want to be left out anymore than his mother, I suppose.

Thing is, we never knew where we going, or for what. I mean it might have been to go get an ice cream cone, if it was Summer. Go to some place for a hot chocolate if it was winter, but it was really just doing something, on the spur of the moment. It was to be family, to get out together, to kibbitz ( to talk ) and just laugh a little at stuff.

Nothing fancy, though generally it was to go try out a new restaurant that had opened, or someplace which we’d never been too. Some of them were really horrid, others were unbelievable, but what never changed, was the fun we had.

Even having to wait for that final call, was fun. We’d wonder when it would come, would we get away with it, and it helped pass the evening away. It was just family, just a way to unwind from the weeks stress, and work. Neither of our families had it easy. Neither Mom and Dad, or Mom’s brother & sister in law.  We didn’t strike it rich, and both of our families worked hard all their lives, until the very end.

Honestly, I rather miss those times. I didn’t have to worry about home support workers back then, and I don’t know, I think back then it wouldn’t have been the problem that it is today. Back then people cared about other people, were willing to go out of their way to lend a hand. Things were different back then, and it was fun.

It is that I feeling that I miss, I guess.  It is a time long gone, all the shame too.