“Don’t run! You’ll fall on your bazottle!” my mom shouted out with a smirk. She used to make up or modify words to be funny. “I will use this Christmas wrapping paper roll as a whep-uhn!” I incorporate the same dialogue with my wife these days, “Hey stop hoggin’ the covers! You are going to Pla-srurb my beast.” The beast, being our little dog Charlie.
Mom would often use her dog for conversation, “Molly sure misses you, she likes it when you come and visit.” I think back on those moments and smile. As a dad today, I use our cocker spaniel poodle to make my family laugh. The dog will make a weird face and I will say, “Sorry about eating the trash, but uh… I’m just a dog, man.” My kids will laugh and laugh. My middle daughter has started up a story book and she wrote that one of the cats was giving her “the stink eye”. I smiled and cried a little, because that kind of talk all started with my mom.
In March 2017, it will be nine years since she passed away. I miss her perpetually. But I often find a way to smile, when I see her echo in something I say, something I see in my kids, or something off the wall in a dog’s silly voice over.
Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert