"Hello My Eldest And Most Beloved Son. This is your mother. I was instructed by Miss Lisa to call and check on you. Please answer the following questions: Are you injured?"
Ah, that's why Lisa's been asking if she called.
"Nope" after a quick check just to be sure.
"Are you gunshot?"
"No, not so far today." And hopefully not for the rest of the day.
"Are you eating?"
"Twice a day."
"Where's your dog?"
"At my feet, asleep."
"Consider yourself checked. You're fine. Good night, Son. I love you." Click.
Love you too, Mom.
I did call her back a minute later just to visit but she was getting ready to go save the somebody from something and said she'd call tomorrow.
Okay, you've heard quite a bit about Pops, Mom, not so much. Let me explain Mom to you.
72 years old and has more energy than a 5 year old. She's one of those people that can jump right into the middle of in any crisis and not only take control but solve the problem. She thrives on that shit.
Somebody dying and the family needs help with the arrangements? No sweat, Mom's buried a shitload of people. Going through a divorce/family law matter? Call Mom, she knows the perfect lawyer. Got a cut-off notice and can't take the day off to pay it? Mom will drop it for you. Need help painting? She's there with tarps, brushes and her Senior Citizens discount for paint. Somebody killed in a car accident? Call Mom - she'll call the family, handle the cops, make the coffee and even go down to identify the corpse for you, picking up a bucket of fried chicken and slaw on the way home.
Fuck, when I was going through my divorce she made about half the appearances for me and even went to a couple of my attorney appointments for me. It got to the point to where she was referring to my attorney as "our" attorney. Whoa, Mom. You start paying for my attorney, you can call her 'ours'. Until then, she's mine. Yeah, I think Mom was actually disappointed when me and The Evil One finally settled and she couldn't go to court no more.
But then my Grandpa Bud caught that cancer that's been going around (as he put it) and gave Mom something else to do for a year or so as her and Aunt Sharon ran 12 hour shifts taking care of Bud until he finally up and died on us after years of threatening to do so.
Then n-o-t-h-i-n-g bad happened for a few months and Mom damned near drove Pops mad trying to create a crisis. Thankfully Pops was rescued when my Uncle had a heart attack and lingered in a coma for a couple of weeks before succumbing to a lifestyle of burgers, fries and milkshakes. I was considering getting jailed just to get Mom off Pops' ass when Gary fucking locked up while eating a six pack of tacos. The timing couldn't have been better as far as Pops was concerned.
That kept Mom going for about a month - sitting at the hospital for almost 2 solid weeks, then making arrangements, then the funeral itself (thank God it was a cremation, Gary was huge. You couldn't pay me to be a pall bearer) and then helping the rest of the family to make their mourning easier, like babysitting and cooking, shit like that. In the background but making a huge difference.
Mom and Pops and me on their 50th Anniversary
She's raised 3 hell raisers, mostly alone while Pops was hunting and fishing all around the world on Uncle Sam's dime while running the occasional combat patrol. After my sister died back in 97, she took on her 3 kids and raised them too, finally getting rid of the last of them when the youngest reports to Basic Training in April.
Not to mention putting up with Pops' bullshit for the past 53 years......