Mom

My mom is 75 today.

I have a lot of moments where I just think my mom is just nuts today. When I visit, she's a little loony, she gives me all kinds of crazy gifts to go home with, she can't remember things sometimes, she's always talking about how everyone is not good but we are the perfect children, and boy, she really has trouble with cooking.

But here are some other random memories of me and my mom.

• I remember that my sisters and I used to sit in front of her, every morning before school, and she would braid our hair in plaits. She would sing songs and tell stories from India. She really has a pretty singing voice.
• I remember she would hold my baby sister and how she would rock her back and forth in her arms. Every mom does it a different way, and I remember watching her and thinking it seemed like home.
• She used to have perfume and a china doll on her dresser when I was little. I used to love going in her room and looking at it.
• She really is not good at cleaning/organizing. When we had parties with Indian friends, she would spend all day in the kitchen cooking and I would straighten up the living room.
• I remember reading a book called The Westing Game in 5th grade. It was a mystery and it scared me so much. I couldn't sleep in my own room so I would sleep on the floor of my sisters' room with her. Not just for a night, but for a solid year.
• I remember when she trained me to drive, she would pump an imaginary pedal when in the passenger seat and I didn't brake soon enough, and it would make me crazy. I also remember driving home with her in the passenger seat one day, and telling her that I hated her. I am ashamed at this memory.
• I remember when she got news of her dad dying, or her sister dying of breast cancer. She is very emotional, and she would cry and wail openly, loudly, dramatically. I would stare and look away. She seemed so foreign in her grief. I realize now this is similar to what the Israelites did when they tore their clothes in their grief.
• When I was in elementary school, I would be laying on our black couch when I was sick. She used to give me medicine, and I used to love tricking her and pretending to drink it (I would tell her to go to another room and I would pour it in the seat cushion). I have no idea how I ever got well. She was so naïve.
• Mom always, always ate last. Dad was served first, we were served next, and she would eat afterward, quickly, so she could clean up after all of us.

She may drive me crazy, but she's the woman that God gave me as my mom, and I love her.