Call of the Wild

Mom with 2 of 11 grandkids, circa 1993

Mom was notorious for misdialing, dozens of people in Burkburnett must have said hello to her throughout those years of misdialing; most of those years were with a rotary phone. I replaced it with a push button for them, but i don't know if it made much difference; and when it came to dialing the 18 numbers to call Mexico, forget it.

In 1988, when dad had his heart troubles, and my half-siblings came to visit him, i knew there was some strain between mom and dad. As usual, mom was probably nagging dad; but as usual, she probably had a valid point. Her arguement was that he had just gotten out of the hospital and his daughter, C., and his younger son, H., were still hanging around in Wichita Falls; their older brother, E., made an appearence just before they all left. So, he's going back and forth from Burk to W.F. and yelling at mom to stay out of it instead of just staying home and taking it easy.

When the siblings had gone back to Matamoros, i dropped by the house to see mom; i lived in an apartment and would go visit mom often, like a good Latin son. I asked her if she had any Cinzano and she gave me a small glass and i sat with her in the living room sipping the wine. She always kept her Reader's Digest, religious literature, and her bible, all in Spanish, on a large footstool in front of the sofa. "Oh!" she says to me reaching for her bible, "last night, while he was taking his shower, I rummaged through your father's wallet, and I found this," and she took out a little piece of paper from the book, "it's the Matamoros number," she whispered, as if dad was in the next room--he was at the shop.

She handed me the paper and i looked at it, "yep, that's what it looks like," I said taking a sip of Cinzano. Holding up the Italian wine, i said, "what color would you say that is?" 

"It is convenient that I found it," she tells me, "because I want to talk to your half-sister, C.," and she placed the phone on the footstool in front of me. "Dial it for me and ask to speak to C. before you hand me the phone, I don't want to have to speak to the mother." Mom wore bifocals, so she's sitting across from me with her head tilted back some, looking at me through the bottom part of her lenses.

So, i make the call and pass her the phone when i determined that it was C. "Hello C.," she starts, "this is your father's wife. Look dear, I have something I want to say to you: it's very nice that want to visit your father, but you must know that these visits cause your father a great deal of stress, which is the last thing he needs with his heart problems. So, I don't think these visits are such a good idea."

C. has a high pitched voice to start with, and her response was immediate, venomous, and shrill; but, mom was also quick, she pulled the receiver away from her ear making a face, then she carefully put it back in its cradle.

"Wow! mother, what did you say to her?" i asked staring at the phone, in disbelief;
C. had totally lost it.

"You heard what I said.... I thought I was being quite reasonable."

"What is her problem?" i asked rhetorically.

Mom adjusted the apron over her lap, a gesture she shared with her sisters, "she needs to find a husband."