As I’ve mentioned before, my mom was never in the picture because she died shortly after I was born. I never even got a picture with her, which says a lot for the brevity of our unity. As far as I’m concerned, the idea of a mom is one that I know very well, but just can’t relate to.  Seeing people my age with their mothers feels like I’m witnessing the practices of a foreign culture. I don’t feel any sort of deep, inward incompletion though, mostly because I had my grandma around throughout my life to sort of fill in for where my neither ought to have been. And my grandma, Irma, who we all call “Mommom,” is that motherly figure that I have to thank for giving me a glimpse of that foreign culture.

Mommom was born Irma Elizabeth Hite and raised in Kentucky from 1939 until the day she was 22. It was there that she met and fell in love with my grandfather, Sam Sheppard. They moved up to Philadelphia and started a family, something that Sam, through reasons only he could justify, did not want to do. He was a snake, from what Mommom has told me. As soon as they arrived in Philly his entire attitude flipped, and the man she fell for became an abusive alcoholic who cared as much for his children as he did for vermin. She told me that Sam loved to cheat, so being a good father was not his specialty at all. By the time my dad was born, he had openly confessed that he “doesn’t give a shit” and basically walked out of the family. She took it in stride and also took on the responsibility of raising her 3 children, my father being the youngest.

In addition, she took in their cousin, Darrin, and raised him as a 4th child, further putting the pressure on herself to make things work. It is because of this that she took on two jobs at once, basically only having time to go to and from work. In many ways, she had to be the mother and father of the house, which I assume is the reason she is able to assert herself in plenty of family roles when people exit our circle. During my 9th grade year, Mommom told my brother and I that she wanted us to attend an after school program downtown. We did, and this led to us staying with her on a couple of nights during the week instead of with our dad since his house was further away. Though my brother eventually grew bored of the program and stopped coming, I stayed, and this is how I came to live with Mommom altogether for 3 years.

In that time, she and I grew closer and became something like Luke Skywalker and Obi Wan Kenobi. Her stories of the past somehow mingled so well with me divulging the intricacies of my teenage life. And best believe there were clashes of ideas and regular conversations where one of us got annoyed. Something I remember vividly

is how she told me that I was too good for my then girlfriend, Blue. She said, “Nah, she’s not the one. Have your fun but eventually move on.” My immediate thought was that old people were supposed to be nice. I loved my girlfriend and I was very offended by her saying that. But this blunt honesty is something she is very good at, especially since me and Blue did eventually break up and I felt what Mommom said was coming true. Blue and I are good friends to this day, and when Mommom sees and hears of her she’s very happy to see her. That’s the way she is. She also told me to be wary of people. Anybody can make you laugh but not everybody can stay in your life, and that’s the truth. I was given so much food for thought in those 3 years that I couldn’t deny how important she had become to me.

It may sound macabre, but she and I joke about death and the inevitability of it. She wants me to be the one to toss her ashes into the Atlantic, where her father died during WWI, when she dies. And our bond is so chill that when she told me this, I said, “What if I miss?” She also told me that she wanted me to speak at her wake and be honest about things. To say, “She was born in Kentucky before the time of Martin Luther. She’s seen some good things, and some bad. She’s done some good things, and some bad. At the end of the day she’s somebody different to everybody. And whether you liked her or not, we’re here to remember her.” And that’s how it’ll be.

Before her time though, I have plans that she needs to be present for. She’s longed to go to Paris her entire life, and I want to be the one to take her there. I also want to see her sitting in the front row at my wedding, on a cruise ship through the Caribbean, at the table while I take my “first” shot. And most importantly, I want her to hold my children like she did with my brother and I. I want them to know who it was that I attribute a lot of my happiness to. And since she’s still got a lot of time left on this planet, I’m certain that one day they’ll be able to talk to her and see for themselves.