The Real Ms. Stacy

There are a lot of things I need to remember more. One being that despite being of the Land of Bonkers, that my mother is magical and two, that I am very lucky to have her.

We have this adorable family that comes and takes care of our yard. The father and mother and kids all show up every week and roar their horrid leaf blowers to life and prune and pluck and all that jazz. One of the members of this family is this sweet 13 year old girl. None of them really speak English too well but you can tell from just meeting them that they’re good honest souls. They even bring their little dog to help work. It’s serious ohana on Saturdays at our place.

Mom has a little garden that she loves a lot. It’s this random hodge-podge of potted this and thats put around the outside of the house in about the same order that they would go in her brain, which is in circular order from the door on out of which one is prettiest and makes her the happiest. That day. A garden in a distinctly sectioned off patch of earth with rows of things??! Please – that is for the common folk… And we all know that that is not my mother.

So, though mom loves piddling in her garden getting to it and getting everything watered regularly is a bit of a challenge, she’s befriended this little girl (they’re about the same age I think) and she helps her with her garden. Well amongst a Saturday chat it came out that this girl likes to read (she goes to school and speaks good English, it’s just the parents that don’t) and mom started chirping about Twilight and the girl said that she’d love to read it but her family has no extra money for books and she has no time to get to the library because she works when she’s not in school.

So mom went directly into the house and got the book, handed it to this adorable 13 year old girl and she almost started crying and gave my mom a tearful and silent hug. Mom said she could bring it back whenever she was finished and the girl was so excited she didn’t let it go the rest of the time she was there. The whole family sleeps in the same room so she had to stay up at night reading in the bathroom so the light wouldn’t wake everybody else and she finished it in days with nothing but smiles. She brought it back and mom gave her New Moon but couldn’t find her copy of Eclipse so she snuck into my room and gave her my copy.

So when I came home from AZ on Sunday night mom had that busted kid look on her face and I knew exactly what it meant. She only gets that way about stuff that she’s messed with that I truly care about which is usually my books. She has a bad habit of not asking about stuff and an even worse habit of being super hard on books. So I said “Which book did you borrow mom?” and she explained the story to me and swore on Odin’s eye patch that if anything happened to it she’d replace it and throw in some chocolate as well but the last thing on my mind was the safety and structural integrity of my book. I was floored and humbled.

Humbled that I don’t have to stay up late sitting on a cold bathroom floor to be able to read, humbled that I have a mother who is so capable of touching and giving the magic of books to the exact person who needs it the most, humbled that that magic lady down the street that dresses funny but changes your world is my mother. Like this little girl will never forget my mom because of her kindness and because of her ability to see people as people, that she was an honest friend, that she was concerned about this little girl’s mind and heart insomuch that she gave her a book to read, a book that she’ll love.

I complain more than I should about my insane mother, but she is some of the best kind of people that does the best kind of things and I consider myself truly blessed to have her and for the mental and emotional freedoms she’s given me by reading to me and handing me a book. By seeing my mind and my heart and knowing how to affect both. Mom truly understands Christmas. She truly understands a lot of things.

I need to get a set of Twilight for that sweet girl for Christmas. And a reading light, or a pillow. Or both. Who’s with me?