My mother used to say things just to make me mad. Like most teenagers, I thought I knew everything. And what I didn’t know, I didn’t want to be told.
She didn’t care. She was a grown woman, twice my age, highly educated in the school of hard knocks, and apparently felt it her appointed duty to make my blood boil on occasion like cold water in hot grease.
For example. If I said I was going to a movie or a basketball game or a sleepover at my friend Martha’s house (I loved going to Martha’s house, her mother never made my blood boil) my mother would roll her eyes.
“I should’ve named you ‘Go’! ” she’d say. “Go is all you do!”
“Don’t worry,” I’d say, just to make her mad. “Pretty soon I won’t be going. I’ll be gone.”
On my way out the door, she’d yell, “You need to slow yourself down before something bad does it for you! You don’t want to learn that the hard way!”
I had no idea what that meant. I thought she just wanted me to stay home with her and watch reruns of “Hee Haw.” If that was her plan, it didn’t work.
Many years later, to my mother’s great delight, I had three teenagers of my own. They thought they knew everything. And what they didn’t know, they didn’t want to be told. I would say the same kinds of things to them that she had once said to me (if in somewhat less colorful language) with the same woeful lack of success.
That’s when I first saw it. My mother wasn’t trying to make me watch “Hee Haw.” She was trying to spare me grief.
Why do we always have to learn things “the hard way”? Why can’t we just accept the wisdom our elders try to offer us _ things they had to learn “the hard way” because they refused to accept it from their elders?
You should see how big I grin when I hear my children tell my grandchildren, “You need to slow yourself down ….”
I can almost hear my mother’s voice adding, “before something bad does it for you.”
It’s a good lesson for any age. Apparently, I’ve yet to learn it.
That thought lit up my mind yesterday like a bolt of lightning as I lay on a gurney getting my foot X-rayed. Hours earlier, I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard my cell phone ringing far off out in the kitchen.
What is it about cell phones that makes us act as if they must be obeyed, no matter what, no matter where, no matter who on Earth is calling? Why didn’t I just let it go to voice mail?
My mother never had a cell phone. I can only imagine what she’d have to say on the subject.
Grabbing a towel, I ran barefoot through the house at a surprisingly fast clip, skidded sideways into the kitchen and all in one move, grabbed the phone and rammed my left foot like a torpedo into the table.
Fortunately, the call had gone to voice mail so the caller was spared hearing the manner in which I answered. I don’t recall all I said. I can assure you it was not the kind of message you’d want to record as a greeting.
Meanwhile, my foot was looking a lot like an overgrown eggplant, swollen and purple, with the toes splayed in a wide “V,” as if flashing a peace sign.
The X-ray revealed both good news and bad. The good was that I didn’t need surgery. The bad was that I’d broken not one toe, but two, and for four to six weeks would have to wear (yes, the rest of the summer) a “post-op” shoe that looks like a mini-surfboard with Velcro straps.
I told you all of that to say this: We all need to slow ourselves down once in a while, before something bad does it for us. My mother, rest her soul, was right. About a lot of things. I wish I could tell her. Maybe one day I will.
She’ll probably make me spend eternity watching reruns of “Hee Haw.”
Another great column, but sorry to hear you were hurt! Why do all the good or funny stories have pain involved? Hope you are taking it easy these days.
We all need to take a lesson and slow down.
Hope you are better soon!
Blessings & prayers~
Oh my, I got a laugh out of your column this morning. It’s rare that I have the time to sit down and read the paper in the morning, but today I did. I had the same experience, kind of! I was on a hill, wearing flip flops, cleaning up after my dog. When I came down the hill, I slipped on the wet grass and broke my fibula. No surgery, good news! Bad news: a boot with three Velcro straps and it does kind of resemble a surf board! While in the ER waiting for the results of the x-rays, I said “Boy, I can hear my mother now! She was always nagging me about wearing flip flops!” I have had mine for six weeks and still have another two… Thanks for making my laugh!
I too was told by my father, not my mother, in these exact words – “slow down little girl, you are moving too fast”. Well, I was injured as well just recently, broke my ankle and it finally slowed me down. It came at the most opportune time because I have been wanting to make major lifestyle changes for two years. And since I wasn’t doing it, the Universe, thanks dad, did it for me.
I just discovered your blog and what a treat! Many, many years ago I read your columns in a newspaper we got at work. The newspaper was from a city where one of our competitors had a manufacturing plant. Can’t remember which paper now but one of my responsibilities was to check the paper for information on our competitor. (You know, back in the days before everything was electronic.) I discovered your column in that paper and read it with each issue. I cannot wait to read thru the columns in your blog and have added it to my favorites. You look awesome in the photo above!
Wish you get well soon . Feeling so bad that you got hurt . Even then you wrote a beautiful column . Stay well ,rest a lot and read the blessings from the world and I am sure you would recover faster .
God bless you good health and speedy recovery . Hope it does not hurt too much .
We need to TRY teaching ourselves and our children (and everyone else) to slow ourselves down MORALLY also…before something really bad happens to us…imho.