Mami Dearest

For all you spelling and grammar junkies out there, no I did not spell Mommy wrong in the title of this post. "Mami" is how latinos say Mommy. We don't grow up saying Mommy, or momma, or mammy or Ma. Its Mami, phonetically, latino.

Now that that's out the way... Hello all! Long time!

I wrote this post today to speak about my mami. Those who know me know that she is an everlasting thorn in my side but I love her dearly. She didn't raise me, and I don't bring her around much. As a matter of fact, I can probably count on one hand how many of my friends in life have ever met my mother. But they've all heard of the many stories that come with the one and only Nancy Rosario Vega. My mami.

What inspires this post you ask? Insomnia, first and foremost, but also the job interview that I had this morning. Somehow it came up that I grew up in Foster Care my whole life and the interviewer commended me stating "you've come so far, my kids can't imagine how lucky they are, and seeing someone like you makes me so emotional and happy that you've been able to achieve so much with so little..." Or something to that nature. This is generally the response I get when people do eventually find out about my upbringing and I never know how to feel about that. Is it so inconceivable that a foster child can be successful, have a college degree? Be in a profession that she loves? Serve as a mentor to others? It isn't really... To me its like I never had a choice but to succeed. When you come from nothing you gotta be something or risk being nothing.

Anywhoodles.... All this got me to thinking about good old Mami dearest and this little story I wrote about her a year ago. Her life story is so interesting that I swore to write a book on it one day. And I will. It wasn't any fault of her own that all her children were taken away from her, just unfortunate life circumstances... So here is my story about Mami. Maybe it'll be the start of the book? Vamos a ver... Enjoy!


God, it had to have been one hundred degrees out. No breeze, just thick,heavy, sticky air enveloping you in a blanket of hot, wet, sweat. All you needed to do was stand still for too long before you noticed the rivers flowing down your arms and back. Yuck. New York Summers-unforgiving.

It was one of those days where the heat index was so high the news put out warning to keep the very young and very elderly indoors. You know them days, when you're actually happy to be at work because of the broken, frigid AC in the office. Hot enough that if you cared to you could probably fry your breakfast on the pavement. HOT!

But, smart woman that she was, she was out and about. Hanging out at the usual spot with the usual suspects. The small park at the intersection of 157th and Broadway was a weird one. It was shaped like a triangle, benches lining the border, trees here and there-patchy grass and scraggly bushes abound. In the middle of the park stood a funky wooden statue. It was a soldier on a horse or maybe it was a midget on a pony? Poor statue looked as if you blew on it it would fall down like a jenga tower. Either that or the heat was going to melt it away.

She was standing at the corner. Arguing. As usual. This time with one of the neighborhood junkies about Lord knows what.

Right as I crossed the street she let out a hearty bout of laughter, about as hearty as her solid two hundred and thirty pounds. She never laughed quietly. I think I inherited that from her.

On her head was a large brim black straw hat, all of her hair pulled into it. You could see a few wispy blonde and gray curls escaping out of the back of it. Her skin was aglow. Golden from sitting out in that park daily. Moles and freckles sprinkled her face, crows feet set deeply in the corners of her brown almond shaped eyes. Those eyes... They were so alive. They had a light all their own. Another thing I inherited (actually I think we all have her eyes). Underneath her high set cheek bones was a small rosy mouth and when she smiled you saw she was missing her top row of teeth.

It seemed as if she had adorned herself with all of the jewelry in her posession. Three pairs of earrings, four necklaces, five bracelets on each wrist, a white watch on the left and one ring on each finger-including her "wedding" ring.

The red tank top she wore was maybe a size too small and stifling her triple D's (shame i didnt inherit those). She wore men's jeans belted at her waist-surely to cover her pansa. She finished off her outfit with a pair of white Nike uptowns-fresh out the box.

That bout of laughter took away all of her energy and she flopped down onto one of the benches. Out of a breath and breathing heavy, she still managed to keep a smile lingering. I snuck up behind her "Hey Mami..." I said. She shot up and gave me a huge mami hug. "My MIDNIGHT DARKNESS!" You gotta love the nick names Ma pegged on us. I'm not even dark skinned.

"Ooooooo!! I'm so glad you're here" she turned "Look everyone this is my daughter! Look at my beautiful daughter." She turned back to me "Come on Melany, I have to introduce you to everyone!" She led me by the arm and I grudgingly followed. She does this every time.

"Ma, it's ok. Can't we just sit and relax?"

"No! WHAT! I can't show off my beautiful daughter. What's wrong with you! You don't visit me enough. I need to show youse off so shush! " She turned to two elderly women sitting on the bench beside her. "Doña Maria, Doña Carmen-esta es mi hija-una de las mellizas. Recuerda a la otra quien vino el otro dia-aye si -no se parecen..." I smiled my fake smile and let mom ramble. She's good at that.

We made the rounds : Papo, Pepito, Jose, el vecino de Jose, el primo del vecino de Jose, el compai de la commai de Doña Maria, el tio de Juan, she calls him Cien Pesos, beats me as to why because he looked like he didn't have cien centavos to his name.

"Mira' mi hija-she's so beautiful, right? como su Mai." She winked and sucked in her stomach. She released it two seconds later. My mother is a trip. "And she's smart too! She's a scientist-right Melany? She's going to cure AIDS. Right Melany?"

"Yes Mommy" I let out an exasperated sigh. "Can we go upstairs now ma? Its hot and I'm thirsty."

We walked towards her tenement building. The whole way there we stopped to say hi to all the vecinos. Ma had a story for all of them. She'd smile and introduce me and as we passed she'd whisper all of their fun facts in my ear.

"He used to be a tecato, but God Bless him, the Church turned him around. Now he's a mujeriego . Pobrecito is always fighting Satan.

"She's such a nice lady, una misionera. She knew Mami and Papi. May they rest in peace. Papi was her Pastor when she came to Christ.

"You see that ugly guy right there? He used to be FINE! We all used to hang in the park on 149 and Woodycrest. Back in the day your Titi Evelyn used to do him"

"T.M.I. MA! I don't need to know that! " She laughed her toothless laugh.

Upstairs we sat in the cool living room. No Lights were on. Con Ed cut off the elctricity just the day before. Mommy's SSI check was late and they cut Juan's hours at the garage after his car accident. Times were hard.Juan is my mother's significant other. She calls him her husband, and he might as well be. They've been together for 15 years. She always told me it was NYC Law that made him and her husband and wife because of the many years they've been living together. The legal marriage law, however, is no longer a law. But whatever Mami says is truth and that's Puerto Rican Law.

Juan was a dark skinned Dominican not more than two inches taller than my mother but a lot more slender. If you look at him from the corner of your eye with your head tilted at a forty-five degree angle he's actually handsome. He didn't speak much English (Or at least fakes that he doesn't speak it). But he's a good man. He has to put up with a lot with my mother. She's a big woman, with big problems. No matter what happens he has always been there for her and with her. He makes her happy so as far as I'm concerned he's okay in my book. The apartment we were in is actually his.Belonged to his mother and after she passed he stayed there with his crazy sister, and moved in my crazy mother.

Sitting on the couches in that living room was uncomfortable.I readjusted myself to get the plastic covering to unstick from my thighs. I gave a quick look around. Both Juan and Mommy throw away nothing. Your classic hoarders. The living room looked more like a storage room than a living room. There were boxes here and there, framed photos of his children and mommy's children, decorated boxes, a portrait of my older sister on her wedding day, all my nieces and nephews smiled back at me from somewhere in that room. Hats. clothes, tools, toilet paper, paper towels, pots, pans, an old television, an old radio, some large speakers, etc etc etc -you get the picture. Clutterific.

"Mira you! " My mom pipes "You finish daydreaming? I wanna go back out."

"Yeah ma. But I cant stick around for much longer. I gotta go teach the kids in an hour."

"You ALWAYS gotta teach! Spend ten more minutes with your momma for Christ's sake. Before I go crazy. Jesus Santisimo! You know you don't want me to go crazy. But we leaving the house right now cause IMMA SUFFOCATE IN HERE! I'll have a heart attack if I stay in here five more minutes. So lets go-ahora."

Something in the tone of her voice didn't sound right. I became concerned. She sounded like she was about to have another one of her episodes. "Ma, you alright? " I asked.

She glared at me.
"Have you been taking your meds?"

"Of course I'm alright!" she snapped. "I took them this morning. You wanna see me take them again now? Huh? huh? "

"WOAH WOAH Ma. Relax. I'm just making sure"

"I'm fine, you know why!?!? Because I'm admitting that I'm crazy. If I weren't ok I would deny it." She stated it so matter-of-factly we both couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, you're right."

We went downstairs. At the building steps she stopped and looked back at me. She gave me the "you know what time it is" look. I fished in my purse for my wallet. Took out my last twenty and gave it to her. She smiled and snickered. "Thank you my Midnight Darkness. I pay you back when my check comes on Friday."

"Don't worry about it ma. You need it more than I do. " She smiled and gave me a kiss on the forehead. She walked me to the train.

At the one train station on Broadway and 157th street we kissed and said goodbye.

"Love you Melany."

"Love you too ma."

I started walking down the steps and stopped. I looked back up at her. She was leaning against the banister. Smiling. Beaming. Proud.

I smiled. "Hey ma. Imma write a book one day. A book about you. And your life story."

She slapped the banister in agreement. "You should! You'd make millions! And you could get me out of this dump."

"I will ma. One day, I promise.

"Just do me a favor ma. I just gave you twenty dollars. Take some of it and buy a notebook and a pen and start writing down your life story. From your first memory and on.

She nodded.

"Good, I'll come by Friday to check on it."

"You promise you'll be here on Friday? " She said hopefully.

I hate lying to mom. "Probably not, but before the end of the weekend" We both laughed at that.

"Ok my Midnight Darkness. Be careful! Don't go home too late. And call me when you get to the dance studio! And when you get home later too! And in the morning when you wake up! Call me!"

"You got it Ma." I lied.

"I love you! "

"Love you too Mami" I walked down the stairs and jumped onto the downtown one train.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That was a Tuesday. Thursday morning I got the text. It read:

"Mommy is in Harlem Hospital. Leo had to admit her last night. Call to make sure they have her medical records and prescriptions on file please. Love you Lil Sis. -Camille"

Here we go again.

5 Things I'm Thankful for:
1. Life
2. The bare necessities
3. Mami
4. My Foster Mom
5.Aunt Jemimah (like the pancake mix)