We’ve all had people giving us advice: do it this way- try this- don’t do this, etc…
Some things stick, a lot don’t, and then there are those things that should, but no matter how hard we try, they just don’t. We can only promise ourselves to do better. Or, in my case, then proceed to break that promise over and over and over.
Hey! At least I’m trying.
If there’s one thing I could say that I heard on a regular basis growing up, it’s “Teresa, put that back where it belongs”.
Oh. My. God. What? Was I a slob? No. Was I lazy? Not really. Well… helloooo… I’m an only child! I STILL think that half the chores should’ve gone to the cats, but that’s another story.
Anyway… It was one of the things that Mama always stressed: PUT IT BACK WHERE YOU GOT IT FROM.
Why was that so hard to grasp? To comprehend? TO DO??
I swear, my Mama must’ve smacked herself on the forehead about a billion times just over that. I’d get something, then leave it out. She’d tell me to put it up. I’d put it somewhere.
I just have some kind of mental block about that shit. To this DAY, I can’t do it. I wish I could. I wouldn’t lose half the shit I do.
Last time I saw Mama, I was at her house in Vidalia, GA. I’d scrubbed the place from top to bottom. I left the broom & dustpan out, true to form. (HELLOOOO!! I PUT UP EVERYTHING ELSE!!)
Mama told me to put ‘em back where I got ‘em from. I sassed & back-talked and said they were where they needed to be or some stupid shit like that. She just sighed and went and sat back down in her recliner.
The next day, her friend came to pick me up to take me to the airport in Savannah.
We started to drive off, but honest-to-God, I saw that broom & dustpan still leaning up against the front porch where I’d left them, and I panicked. BAD.
I couldn’t get out of the truck fast enough.
I grabbed them up, ran into her house, and put them back exactly where she always kept them: in the laundry room.
I was gasping for air when I ran into the sitting room. I said “Mama!! Mama!! I put ‘em back where I got ‘em from!”
She smiled the best she could and said “I know, honey. I know”.
That was the last time I saw my Mama.
But, you better believe that every damn time I’m looking for something that I’ve “misplaced” I can actually hear her eyes rolling.
By Teresa M
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