Word To Your Mother
It’s Mother’s Day this month, readers, and for those of us fortunate enough to have ours would do well to remember them. There are many reasons to be thankful for Moms, too many to list within this note, but there is one story I wish to share.
My brother and I were young; Mom was single, working hard to raise her boys, whom you can probably guess were perfect gentlemen. New Year’s Eve was on its way and Mom asked if we would like to spend it with her. She wanted to take us out – dinner and a movie.
Though, we didn’t know it at the time we didn’t have much money. Mom did a fine job providing for us, working several jobs to care for our needs, but as children we simply did not understand the realities of living off the income of a single parent. She must have worked a little extra, and made a few more sacrifices, to have enough to take her boys out.
Our evening began at home, Mom dancing with my brother, while the three of us washed and dressed for dinner. She was the Disco Queen during that point in her life and definitely knew how to move. From my room, I could hear Nicky laughing, asking to “play the record again” so Mom could teach him what she knew. I listened to News Of The World while I tried in vain to get my hair right.
We piled into the car, a yellow, 70’s Ford Maverick, with black stripes and took off for Woodward, en route to the then famous Suzi-Q. There we sat, in a booth, in the center of a lively, boisterous room, eating the best fish-n-chips ever, laughing and having a wonderful time. As I sit here now, I can feel that simple moment in my bones.
“What movie are we gonna see?” Nicky asked. “Why don’t we see ‘Every Which Way But loose’” Mom said. “It’s supposed to be funny and they have a chimpanzee in it.” Nicky’s eyes lit up and he broke out in a smile, revealing his missing tooth.
We drove to the Abbey Theatre. Mom bought tickets and inside spoiled us with popcorn, soda and candy. The theatre was crowded but we found good seats, and for the next 90 minutes we laughed so much our sides ached.
The film ended before midnight and we asked what we were going to do next. Mom looked at her watch, “I don’t know.” “Can we see this movie again? Can we?” “Sure,” Mom said. “Let me get the tickets.”
It wasn’t until years later, I discovered that Mom didn’t buy tickets for that show – she had no more money. Instead, she asked an employee if we could sneak through another screening. “Go ahead” he said. “I don’t think the manager will know.”
A single mother and her sons, 1978.
Thanks Mom,
Nick & Tony