inyati13
Well-known member
My mom is racist. She will be 92 on my son’s birthday, January 21. We are laughers. She and I can laugh at someone who is choking to death on a hotdog. I called mom every day, 365 days of the year, beginning when I got unlimited cell service which was about 2002. No matter what I did, she found a way to make it sound ok. When I explained to her on the phone, that I had gotten involved in an extra-marital affair and my marriage was forfeited. She responded, “Honey, don’t be too hard on yourself, it happens all the time.” I thought, no, I deserve a stricter reprimand than that.
Now, she is lonely without dad. Only 4 miles from my farm, in a Nursing Home. She sits in her room alone passing her days looking out the window and occasionally whistling one of her gospel songs. Before she married dad in 1948, mom was part of a gospel trio. Two young girls and a man. They traveled the United States singing at religious gatherings. Somewhere I have a picture brochure of the trio. Mom was accomplished on the organ. She played her entire life and still does at 92.
When I was divorced, I had a short relationship with a black woman in Denver. I called mom one day before the Christmas of 2007. It went about like this:
Ron: Mom, I would like to bring Patty home for Christmas.
Mom: Honey, is that the black woman who is your friend.
Ron: Mom, she is more than a friend.
Mom: I don’t understand what that means.
Ron: Mom, you surely know what I mean.
Mom: Dear Lord, you are surely not saying what I think you are.
Ron: Mom, let’s not go into that.
Mom: Ron, it is fine to have a black friend but you must be careful.
Ron: Mom, I'm only asking if I can bring her home.
Mom: I really don’t think that is good.
Ron: But what if I decide to marry her?
Mom: Dear Lord, you would surely not do that to your Dad and I.
Ron: Mom, that is racist. She is no different that any other human.
Mom: Oh, Lord, have mercy. Your dad and I have worked our whole lives to have a good name. You cannot be thinking of marrying a black woman. I think it is nice for you to have a friend but Bob and I will not stand to see you marry a black woman.
I was not offended. I know she is not a bad woman. It was the generation she was raised in.
Now, she is lonely without dad. Only 4 miles from my farm, in a Nursing Home. She sits in her room alone passing her days looking out the window and occasionally whistling one of her gospel songs. Before she married dad in 1948, mom was part of a gospel trio. Two young girls and a man. They traveled the United States singing at religious gatherings. Somewhere I have a picture brochure of the trio. Mom was accomplished on the organ. She played her entire life and still does at 92.
When I was divorced, I had a short relationship with a black woman in Denver. I called mom one day before the Christmas of 2007. It went about like this:
Ron: Mom, I would like to bring Patty home for Christmas.
Mom: Honey, is that the black woman who is your friend.
Ron: Mom, she is more than a friend.
Mom: I don’t understand what that means.
Ron: Mom, you surely know what I mean.
Mom: Dear Lord, you are surely not saying what I think you are.
Ron: Mom, let’s not go into that.
Mom: Ron, it is fine to have a black friend but you must be careful.
Ron: Mom, I'm only asking if I can bring her home.
Mom: I really don’t think that is good.
Ron: But what if I decide to marry her?
Mom: Dear Lord, you would surely not do that to your Dad and I.
Ron: Mom, that is racist. She is no different that any other human.
Mom: Oh, Lord, have mercy. Your dad and I have worked our whole lives to have a good name. You cannot be thinking of marrying a black woman. I think it is nice for you to have a friend but Bob and I will not stand to see you marry a black woman.
I was not offended. I know she is not a bad woman. It was the generation she was raised in.
