Merry Christmas: My Fondest Memory of Mom! December 2017 will be the 20th year that my Mom passed away of gastric cancer. I decided to that the best way to say Merry Christmas was with my fondest memory of Mom. That ended up being more difficult than I thought. Even after chatting up my little sister about her favorite / fondest / funniest memory about Mom, she asked, which one, Los? We have tons.
I settled on the category of emergency situations and response plus Mom.
Ahem! I digress.
Merry Christmas: My Fondest Memory of Mom - was an innocuous afternoon during school break. She asked me to find the week's newspaper for the coupons. I had already bundled it up with twine, and placed it up on the pile of papers to be recycled. I was scrawny kid so I had zero arm strength. Well, I reached up on my toes to get a piece of the bottom. As I pulled on it, it finally tumbled down like a bowling ball from the top shelf in a closet. I tried to catch it, but it didn't go as planned. My right hand was pinned against the table which had a thin sheet metal edge to it. Like a cheese grater, the top layer of skin of my hand was almost peeled off.
Well, Merry Christmas: My Fondest Memory of Mom - is not so fond as it is funny. It was hanging on like a piece paper in a spiral notebook. So I flopped it back on, put my left hand over it and clamped it for pressure. Now I'm bleeding like a pig.
I wandered back into the kitchen from the garage. Mom was on the phone with one of her Filipino girl friends as they were speaking Visayan. I attempted to reach for the paper towels as I know she'd kill me if I used one of her bathroom towels for my first aid or maybe a tourniquet. She blocked me, and told the caller to hold on. "Caloy, what are you doing?"
"Just need a paper towel for my hand," I cautioned.
Then without consulting me, she grabbed my left hand and removed it. Some of the blood coagulated of my right hand and dried to my left hand, therefore the skin lifted up with her actions and exposed my hand.
Immediately Mom fainted, and hit the floor. The phone handset crashes next to Mom with her friend asking what's going on. I picked it up, and told them she'll call you back, and hung up the phone. Then I called Dad at work - it was an emergency. I asked him how to care for Mom since she fainted. I explained about my hand, but didn't know how to do deal with her passed out and sprawled out on the floor. He calmly instructed me to elevate her feet, and wait until she becomes conscious. I said goodbye and hung up the phone.
I wrapped my hand up tightly with the kitchen towel she was holding, then used another one to place underneath her feet but atop of the phone. Picture this: a tween boy sitting legs crossed, applying pressure to his wounded hand with his Mom's kitchen towel and caring for his Mom that passed out from seeing the wound in the first place.
She thrashed herself out of unconsciousness and then sat up. "Carlos, what's wrong?"
"You fainted. You're fine."
Her eyes furrowed, and she barked, "Why are you using my kitchen towel?" Then she reached for it.
I smacked her hand, "That's what got into this situation in the first damn place!" The look on her face was priceless, like I slapped her in the face with a track cleat. I have so many more Mom stories, but I'll leave you with this one.
Merry Christmas from our family to yours! Be good like you should and if you can't be good, be good at what you do!
Mic drop *bOoM*
'los; out
I settled on the category of emergency situations and response plus Mom.
Merry Christmas: My Fondest Memory of Mom
If there ever was a crisis, she is the last person you wanted to be on scene or supporting you. I'm confident that her easily rattled psyche, and her queasiness at the sight of blood are the main reasons that she wasn't a nurse even though 80% of Filipinas end up as nurses.Ahem! I digress.
Merry Christmas: My Fondest Memory of Mom - was an innocuous afternoon during school break. She asked me to find the week's newspaper for the coupons. I had already bundled it up with twine, and placed it up on the pile of papers to be recycled. I was scrawny kid so I had zero arm strength. Well, I reached up on my toes to get a piece of the bottom. As I pulled on it, it finally tumbled down like a bowling ball from the top shelf in a closet. I tried to catch it, but it didn't go as planned. My right hand was pinned against the table which had a thin sheet metal edge to it. Like a cheese grater, the top layer of skin of my hand was almost peeled off.
Well, Merry Christmas: My Fondest Memory of Mom - is not so fond as it is funny. It was hanging on like a piece paper in a spiral notebook. So I flopped it back on, put my left hand over it and clamped it for pressure. Now I'm bleeding like a pig.
"Just need a paper towel for my hand," I cautioned.
Then without consulting me, she grabbed my left hand and removed it. Some of the blood coagulated of my right hand and dried to my left hand, therefore the skin lifted up with her actions and exposed my hand.
Immediately Mom fainted, and hit the floor. The phone handset crashes next to Mom with her friend asking what's going on. I picked it up, and told them she'll call you back, and hung up the phone. Then I called Dad at work - it was an emergency. I asked him how to care for Mom since she fainted. I explained about my hand, but didn't know how to do deal with her passed out and sprawled out on the floor. He calmly instructed me to elevate her feet, and wait until she becomes conscious. I said goodbye and hung up the phone.
I wrapped my hand up tightly with the kitchen towel she was holding, then used another one to place underneath her feet but atop of the phone. Picture this: a tween boy sitting legs crossed, applying pressure to his wounded hand with his Mom's kitchen towel and caring for his Mom that passed out from seeing the wound in the first place.
She thrashed herself out of unconsciousness and then sat up. "Carlos, what's wrong?"
"You fainted. You're fine."
Her eyes furrowed, and she barked, "Why are you using my kitchen towel?" Then she reached for it.
I smacked her hand, "That's what got into this situation in the first damn place!" The look on her face was priceless, like I slapped her in the face with a track cleat. I have so many more Mom stories, but I'll leave you with this one.
Merry Christmas from our family to yours! Be good like you should and if you can't be good, be good at what you do!
Mic drop *bOoM*
'los; out
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