...and we're back!When the going gets tough, a mother's love can cure all. After a devastating young-adult heartbreak in my early 20's, mammia mia drove me aimlessly for hours on the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway while I sobbed in the passenger seat nibbling on pounds of burnt bacon, cooked to perfection just the way I like. Her parting words, one night, while I smoked countless cigarettes in my bedroom a few doors down from her own, were If only I could show you, if only I could tell you. (Er, she's a romance novelist.) If not for her inspirational prose and stellar culinary skills, I might have starved to death that week while drowning in a haze of nicotine poison. Instead, I ate endless portions of the one-food-I'd-bring-to-a-desert-island and enjoyed the picturesque view of the Verrazano Bridge through my tear-drenched eyes, and came out on the other side (of Staten Island). Enjoy!
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We didn't go as far as to sleep on the couch, but those were very long rides to the end of Long Island, twice, if I call. But there is something so soothing about riding in a warm cocoon at seventy miles an hour on the scenic Belt Parkway. I do it all the time alone, only I call it going to the mall.Some moms can't do these things, and it's no fault of theirs.But helicopter mom that I freely admit I am, my unsought for paybackback-it really was all for love-as been profound this past winter.
ReplyDeleteStill, as Dylan said "...it's all right, Ma, it's life, and life only." Maybe that's why it's all so precious.And fleeting.