My Eel Skin Pocketbook

Christmas was just around the corner.  I was sitting next to her bed by the window.  The view from her hospital bed was of tree tops and the ever changing sky.  Nearer to the window, where I was sitting I could see across the street to the fenced in graveyard.  Not far to travel and the irony not missed.  So depressing, they should outlaw that zoning.

Usually we just sat and chatted about my work or the kids but this afternoon Mom told me she’d been thinking and wanted to have a talk.  She’d been thinking and planning for Christmas presents and since she couldn’t shop, obviously, she still was interested in knowing what it was that I wanted because she had a plan.  

I should say that my mom had a great sense of humor and a healthy sense of self.   Seemingly, she also had no shame.   Not to say that the free flowing morphine didn’t make a difference it’s just that her lack of remorse was embarrassing, even to me.

She asked me what I wanted for Christmas.  If I could have anything what would it be?  I thought for a while and since this was the mid 80’s and eel skin pocketbooks were in style, that’s what I asked for.  I told her it didn’t matter to me, though, I was just glad to have her.  I told her it didn’t matter, but it did.

I asked her what her plan was and without  hesitation she told me that she knew that my husband Ron could not say no to her so she would ask for the eel skin pocketbook and then right after Christmas she’d give it to me since she was dying and would never need to carry a pocketbook again anyway.  I asked her if she didn’t think this was rather underhanded and again without flinching she said, “Yes, in fact, I  do think it’s  underhanded but I have no options, you must agree.” Therefore in her estimation it was justified to lie to him.  I was disappointed in her obvious lack of morals and told her so.  Nothing seemed to get through to her higher values….she was on the slippery slope of power grabbing as she faced imminent death and there was nothing I could say to change her outlook but enjoy the eel skin pocketbook I received from my mother that year for Christmas.  If she were alive today we’d both be reminiscing about her obvious success and the beauty of her advanced form of manipulation.  Again I see her better qualities in my granddaughter’s eyes.  She lives on in my laughter.