I’ll Drive You Home…

It’s going to be another long night at the factory. Today two ladies called in sick & the other two could not stay and work overtime.

My mother is a bit upset because she needs to finish this order! We have over 300 garments that need to be completed this weekend and some more that are still on the cutting table and have not even been counted yet!

Marga is feeling sick today. She was throwing up and today is not a good pregnant day for her. Daniel is out making deliveries and I’ve been at this machine since 3:00, when I got out of school. Marga starts complaining “mom, I’m not feeling well & I think I’m gonna go home.” Sure enough Marga goes to the bathroom & throws up again.

“Go home and lay down, hopefully that would help.” my mother tells her.

Marga heads out the door & a few minutes later comes back in. “What happened?” mom asks.

“I can’t even fit behind the steering wheel to drive myself home!” Marga replies.

“Well there is nobody here to drive you home!” Mom suggests “Can you stay & lay down on the sofa?”

“No mom, I am really sick & need to go home.” Marga replies.

Photo © 2010 Susie of Arabia

Photo © 2010 Susie of Arabia

Well, I’m sitting here listening to the whole conversation. In my 14 year old head everything is possible & I come up with this bright idea!

“I’ll drive you home!”

See I can’t stand being in the factory & sewing all evening is not what I want for myself tonight. So I will do whatever it takes to get out of here!

“But you don’t even have a license” Marga replies.

“so what! I’ve watch Danny drive the bug. I’m sure I can do it! It’s only three blocks anyway & you can’t very well walk home in your condition.”

See this was a good argument & I think I got both Mom & Marga convinced. Marga did not have a comeback. So off we go! I put it into gear & let go of the clutch. Bam! the car jerks as it stalls. Again I turn it on and Marga instructs me to let go of the clutch slowly. I drove down the street at 10MPH – the car hopping and tires chirping, but I’m heading out.

I don’t think I even made it up into third gear, but we were on our way.

I can see our street from here, so how much trouble can I get into in three short blocks. Sure enough, I turn onto Dawson St & head down towards our house in the middle of the street. I took the turn a little too quick & by this point I’m up to 20MPH.

“slow down, the driveway is coming up…” Marga tells me. We reach the middle of the block. I slow down & start to turn into our driveway. I step on the break and…

And nothing!!! – the car isn’t stopping!!!

“Stop the car!” Marga yells

“I’m trying & nothing is happening! What do I do!!!”

Again Marga yells “Stop the caaaaar!” We are heading right towards the chain link fence & I can see what is next…

My life flashed before my eyes! I don’t want to think about it, but I get the image of the bug parked on top of mom’s garden, the car with it’s ass sticking out of the front wall of the house.

I don’t think mom is gonna like this mess! I closed my eyes, braced for impact and prayed for the best.

Suddenly, I hear the car screech to a halt! In an instant, Marga reaches for the emergency break & yanked it – 1″ from the edge of the fence!!!

PHEW! that was close. We look at each other with this face of amazement. Marga face is pale white & she starts doing her Lamaze breathing technique & me shitting in my pants in total disbelief.

We laughed so hard that my gut was hurting till the next day.

We never spoke of this to mom or anybody, but once in a while mom yells at Danny for the “wild skid marks on the driveway.” She smacks him in the head while he counters with “Mom, I didn’t do that!”

Anyway the secret is out now! and I’m sure glad I learned that, when stopping apply pressure to the clutch as well…

Otherwise you will hit the fence!

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psolis, April 4th 2010 | Tags: , ,
Posted in Family, Uncategorized

Not Your Usual Kind of Christmas

My mother is a strong, focused lady and nothing will stop her in reaching her goals. In her younger days she worked her fingers-to-the-bone to be successful. She got her degree and even had her own business. She was so focused and so motivated.

She had this dream to get the whole family to the United States and people in her town did not understand why she wanted to leave. They would make fun of her and even call her names.

When we got here, she remained focused. Still worked her fingers-to-the-bone so time to make friends was not a top priority. Looking back, I can see that her tough character & her focus were a way to protect herself from people’s opinions.

But now that we are settling into our new house, it looks like she is ready to try again. She has made friends with a few ladies at church. But again, her tough coat has been misunderstood and there are a few ladies who do not get her level of focus or her motivation.

Yesterday she had an argument with the wife of a deacon. Mom had been asking around if any of the ladies needed a seamstress to make dresses for Christmas. My mother explained “I’m starting a new business…” and the deacon’s wife interrupted her.

“Why do you consider yourself to be better then the rest of us?” She complained to my mother.

“Isn’t a job at a factory good enough for you?”

But I know a ‘job’ is not enough for my mother. Needless to say mom butt heads with this lady and several other ladies from the church group.

But mom just lets this go…

A few weeks back, this lady was doing a collection of unwanted clothes for the poor & needy. My father committed himself to donate clothes. Over the weeks leading up to Christmas, we had donated several bags of clothes, that we did not use anymore.

At the Wednesday service before Christmas, the ladies’ church group made one last request for more unwanted clothes. “There is a desperate need for these items…” was the last plea. Nobody raised their hands, and at the last minute my father raised his. Once again, he committed the whole family.

Now for Saturday service, we dragged a big bag of clothes with us on the train. We carried it for the 1hr commute to the Adventist Church. There my father handed the bag over to this lady. Danny gave up a green hooded, parka. It’s only problem was that it was old & had holes in the pockets. I gave up my US Navy blue Pea coat. It only had a small tear in the elbow and mom gave up a nice brown coat with a white fur collar. Even though the fur was a little torn and dirty, she liked it. begrudgingly she too gave it up for those more needy…

All because my dad said “the poor do not have clothes to keep them warm this winter and you have several!”

Saturday church service was beautiful and the Christmas theme left us feeling that giving up our items for the benefit of others was a good idea.

It is what a “good Christian” should do – right?
But now walking out of Saturday service, we see a difference in the floor mats the church is using. Stretched out on the floor were my mom’s fur-collar coat; my blue jacket & Danny’s parka there on the floor for people to wipe their feet.

This cut deep, like a knife, straight thru my mother’s heart. She had allowed herself to be vulnerable and allow people in. But now this lady had taken a direct hit at mom. I don’t know why, envy, anger, jealousy…

But again my mother lets this go and just moves on – like always. This time the pain was a little deeper.

A neighbor saw us walking & offered us a ride home. Mom was quiet all the way home and nobody else dare break the silence. All we could do was listen to Delta Dawn playing on the radio. I guess mom being vulnerable is now like a faded rose from days gone by…

When we got home, mom went straight up to her room. I hope we can find a way to cheer her up before Christmas.

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psolis, December 21st 2008 | Tags: , , ,
Posted in Family, Uncategorized

Sweat You Ass Off, Mi’jo

Joe came over today. He has a really bad cold – coughing like crazy – and his voice hoarse and scratchy. I think it’s at the verge of being a pneumonia, but he disagrees.

After being in the house for only 5 minutes, mom yells at Joe. “What are you doing out in the cold with that pneumonia? Oh my God! your voice is ready to go!!”

“It’s not a pneumonia! It’s only a cold. Don’t worry” Joe replies. But he does not know my mom. She left the room and we went back to hanging out. We’re watching TV and just talking but we are having a good time hanging out with Joe.

I don’t know why all the neighbors don’t like Joe. He is a good guy with a bad reputation – no matter that it’s unearned. My dad does not like him, but my mom does. She says that she sees the kindness in his heart.

“Knock, Knock” my mother says as she opens the door of my room. “Take your shirt off!” She demands of Joe, in her broken English. “What?” Joe replies with a puzzled look.

“Don’t even try to stop her Joe. When she has her mind set, nothing will stop her.” Danny tells Joe. “Just surrender, It’ll be easier!”
Menthol ChinoMY mom showed up with a container of ‘Mentol Chino’ & a stack of newspapers. She rubs the mentol chino on his chest and on his back. She lays it on thick so that the newspaper will be able to stick to it.

The room has a strong Menthol smell and Joe is complaining of the smell and that the fumes are stinging his eyes.

“Dile que no joda!” My mom yells out. “What did she say?” Joe asks. “Stop complaining and let her continue…” Danny replies, leaving out the curse word.

Now my mother grabs the newspaper. She plasters it on his chest like if she was hanging wallpaper. She rubs it in – almost as if she was trying to rub the newsprint off onto his chest.

She continues with more of the same on his back. “Now put your shit back on!” She instructs Joe. Sure enough, Joe is now doing whatever my mother instructs.

She now leaves the room & Joe is just standing there like an overstuffed scarecrow. He has newspaper spilling out the neck & arms of the T-shirt.

Wool Blanket
My mother walks back in, this time with a thick wool blanket that we brought over from Ecuador. This blanket is made of Llama wool and is made by the local Indians. I have many memories of how it kept me warm during those cold winter nights in the Bronx. We used to have nights when the heat would not work & this blanket was the only thing that kept us from freezing our ass of. The whole family would sit under this blanket to stay warm & watch TV.

My mother wraps the blanket tightly around Joe. The only thing hanging out the side is his hands and off the top is his head. Joe is now stiff as a scarecrow.

“Now leave!” My mother instructs Joe! “Mi’jo, Go home & sleep wrapped in the blanket. Don’t take the blanket off no matter how hot you get.”

My mother treated Joe just like she would her sons. She was truly concerned for him. Joe does not question nor says anything but gives Danny a look, as if to ask “What should I do now!?”

My Brother replies “GO & sweat your ass off!

The next morning Joe returns the wool blanket & thanks my mother for taking care of him. He does not have a mother & she has made him feel as if she was his mother.

“Thank you” is all he says – his voice no longer hoarse or broken. “I feel much better.”

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psolis, October 14th 2008 | Tags: , ,
Posted in Family, Uncategorized

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