Called for action

Frontiers, 1999 by Currans-Sheehan, Tricia

"I still think you were faking that. It was just a stunt to get some attention." Mom's back was still away from her.

"It wasn't. But let's say it was. Was it really so bad to get my mother's attention? Was it?" Nadine asked.

There was silence. Nadine went on. "And you know what, I have used that single scene my whole life. Whenever I try to tell myself that Mom still cares for me, still loves me, I bring back that scene. It's all I have."

Mom turned. "There you go again. I remember hugging you when Dad and I left you in Dubuque at the convent."

Nadine looked up. "Mom, you shook my hand. Dad shook my hand first and then you did. There was no hug. Not one single hug."

"You're just saying that to make me mad again. Always blaming me."

Nadine stood up this time. "No, I'm not saying it to blame you. I'm just saying it because it's true."

"I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear anything." Mom hobbled out of the kitchen without her cane, heading toward her stool by the living room window.

Nadine followed after her. Mom climbed onto her stool and cried out, "Get away from me. Just get away."

Nadine stood in the doorway to the living room for a second. She watched Mom's back move up and down. Then she did what she did to the women who came into the shelter. She came right up behind that stool and threw her arms around Mom and pulled her close to her. For the first time ever she felt Mom's body. It was thin, bony. Mom tried to pull away, leaning forward, but Nadine held her tightly.

"Ma, I want us to start over. I know you're going to say it's too late but it isn't. I want you to see me as I am. You know I am more like you than you think. I pray and help people. You know, what I'm doing right now-hugging you-is what I do to the abused women who come into the shelter. When they're scared and lonely, I just hug them."

"I don't need any damn hug. I'm not an abused woman."

"Ma, I'm offering you this chance to get to know me. I want to know you, too.

And she put her lips to the top of Mom's head; her gray hair was thin on top. She kissed her head softly. "I know you can't look at me. So I'm going to leave here and go back to Doris's. I'll be heading back to Sioux City tomorrow. But I want you to know that I'm offering myself to you. I'm willing to try and change things between us."

There was silence.

Nadine let go of Mom and stepped back. Mom's back was still stiff. She was staring straight ahead, out the window. The sun was shining through the stainedglass window of the Good Shepherd and the red light from his robe spread a red light all over Mom's body. Nadine turned and walked toward the kitchen door.

When she opened the door, she heard the voice. "Nadine?"

She paused.

"Nadine," she heard again. She turned around and walked toward the living room.

"Yes, Ma."

"If you're going to be driving by here later, drop off some of those radishes and lettuce from Doris's garden."

"What?"

"You heard what I said."

"Radishes and lettuce?"

"And you might as well clean them up."

"Why would I clean them up?" Nadine asked quietly.