Category Archives: mom

The Deistette is really just a momma’s-girl

Emmie’s mom is coming to live with us.  She’s coming to live with us in two days.

Yes, you read that right. My mother in-law is coming to live with me, my wife, my stepson, my daughter (on the weekends she’s here) our dog and two cats in our teeny tiny 1,190 square foot house.

They are both are extremely excited about the prospect. Me… I don’t know. I was talking to her (my mother in-law) on the phone last night and she said how excited she was about it and how she’s really looking forward to being here with us.

She asked if I was excited.  I kinda felt put on the spot.  I didn’t really know how to answer because “excited” is definitely NOT the word I would use to describe how I’m feeling about this.  I would probably use words like “nervous”, “worried”, “anxious”, “concerned”.

I mean for one, it’s a small house.  Three very small bedrooms with only one and a half baths.  Secondly, Emmie and I are still getting to know each other.   We’ve only been married for about a year and a half.

But I know Em is excited.  It’s been hard for her being here in Houston not knowing anyone and her momma living in the panhandle.  She says she’s nervous but I know she’s really happy about her mom coming here.

And so… I am happy.

There have been a couple of major events I’ve written about on the ol’ blog.  I believe this can be added to the list.

A life changed in 30 days

I’ve been meaning to write about this for awhile but kept feeling like I needed more time to grasp any meaning or to analyze what happened but I don’t know if there really is enough time to comprehend entirely the how and the why.  So a little more than a year later here’s my take on what happened to my dad and his wife and how their lives were upended.

You know… it can happen so quickly.   Your life as you know it completely changed; unmistakenly different from it was just the day before.  In the case of my dad and stepmother… 30 days.  It took  exactly 30 days for the transformation of their lives to be different to a point that it will never be what it was before.

In December of 2008, my dad’s wife of 30 years went to visit her brother near Dallas.  An important fact I should note is she has a disease that suppresses her immune system.  As a result she needs to be as careful she can about getting near any one who is sick or should cut herself.

Well she wasn’t as careful as she usually is and something got hold of her in December of ’08 that made her very sick.   The bacteria that attacked her body was strong and Continue reading

new fangled machinery

So a few months ago, The Deistette and I had the AC die at the house. What a nightmare. I don’t know how people lived here in Houston before air conditioning.

Well, we had a guy come out and he said the fan motor was dead. I was really hoping it would be something easy because I barely had the 60 bucks for the service call.

He said he could replace it for 750 bucks. 😐 I felt my butt pucker.

(of course there’s a but)
But… although the fan motor would be new, more than likely as old as the entire unit was (26 years old) it was just a matter of time (a short amount of time) before other stuff on the unit would die. A relay here, a switch there, a thinga-ma-bob here, a whutzit there. He said when stuff started breaking down it would probably cost another good 700 or 800 bucks. Again my butt puckered. Had I been in prison I’d be the belle of the ball!

He said for just a little more money I could get a brand new unit. Well, like I said I barely had the 60 bucks for the service call so I told him I’d have to wait.

My mom got wind of my predicament (thanks to my brother) and so she came to the rescue. She doesn’t really have the money but she said she’d get by.

Mumma is awesome! Thanks be to Mumma!, she who is most awesome!  A pic of Mumma from a post last year.

We got our AC replaced, did a happy dance, sent her thank you card and let her know The Little Man would be happy not have heat rash anymore.

So fast forward to last night.

The service tech from the AC company came by unexpectedly and said he came by to replace a vent on the unit. I asked him about the heater and where the pilot light was on the new unit. We had wanted to turn on the heater once or twice lately but hadn’t been able to.

The nights and mornings have been unusually cool down here on the Gulf Coast Plains for those of us who grew up here and have thinned-out blood. For me 50 degrees was feeling pretty cold.

The guy looked at me like I was some kind of moron and said you don’t have a pilot light. He could see the look of confusion quite easily that I was trying to hide. He said, “well, you see this is a brand new unit. It has electronic ignition that fires up the gas for the heat exchanger.”

I felt like those old timers who say stuff like, “What! Whatdya mean you can put a card in this machine and get money out. It’s called a what?… an ATM?”


“What? Put paper in this machine and it will send a copy all the way across town? What’s this thing called?… a Fax machine?”

Yeah… in my head I was actually thinking, “What the hell are you talking about! It doesn’t have a pilot light?!? Electronic ignition!”

What the hell will they think of next.

[Deist heads out to lunch and thinks to himself, the next thing you know they’ll be talking about cars that run on water or engines that run on perpetual motion and magnets. ]

i have a hole in my sock

I live about six miles away from my baby sister and about three miles from my younger sister who is just year older than the baby.

My mom (who everyone calls “mumma”) lives about 25 miles from our area and she comes over to our side of town just about every weekend. Is it to come see Julian?… no. It’s to see the girls.

Do I feel left out? Not really. ok, maybe a little.

Although my siblings say I’m mumma’s favorite, I’ve always been at the more distant end of her watchful eye. This has been my m.o. since I was about seven. My mom leaned on me as the oldest to help out with my two brothers and sisters when my dad left us. I can remember walking to the grocery store that was about a quarter mile or so from the apartments we lived in by myself to pick up bread, milk, eggs. I was in charge when we were alone as mom fought her way through traffic to get home. And I was the navigator, riding shotgun, when we made the 10 hour trek (10 hours because of five kids needing pee breaks, snack breaks, “I’m gonna stop this car right now” breaks) to the Rio Grande Valley to see my aunts and uncles in Edinburg, Tex. Go Bobcats!

So I guess from that sort of upbringing I’ve had a bit of an independent streak in me. Or at least I’ve never had the idea pop into my head that something can’t be done on my own.

There is something however, that I haven’t done on my own… i think, ever. I mean, I can’t remember a time when I did this for myself. Sad and rather pathetic when you think about it. When I was in college I would get care packages from mom and in the box would periodically be underwear and socks. My grandmother would send for Christmas underwear and socks. When I was in the military, they issued me underwear and socks. And this weekend mumma came over, out of the blue with a package of socks in her hand.

Mumma is getting on up in age. I’ve only recently (within the past few years) really let the thought sink in that she won’t be with me always. I mean, I’ve certainly given thought to that with me and my daughter but… as for me… well, it’s mumma! She’ll always be there.

[Deist wiggles his toes and notices a hole forming in his sock and thinks, “Glad mumma brought over that new package.” Takes a sip of sweet tea and wipes his eye.]

how my momma showed me God

I remember an article that came out some time ago in Time Magazine called the God Gene. As the title and subtitle suggest, science is applying the “which came first” question to spirituality and some scientists are saying, DNA created God first… not God created our DNA.

Possible I suppose… certainly within the realm of possibility. That would kinda suck though and throw my belief system in the crapper.

But i prefer this possibility instead. I learned it from my mom… who, if there ever really was a human incarnation of The Divine, it was her… not Jesus of Nazareth, the Buddah, or Krishna. Nope, good ol’ mom. She is the epitome, definition and incarnation of patience and unconditional love.

I can actually pinpoint the moment the latter possibility happened.

We were driving down to South Texas one summer to visit her sister and along one desolate and barren stretch of US Hwy 59, she points out the windshield of our 1970 Ford Capri and says, “how is it possible? How is it possible the little birds and plants and animals can even survive in this?” If you’ve been in South Texas in July you can imagine why this thought came to her in this seemingly uninhabitable area.

She sat in silence for a moment. I, and amazingly my two brothers and two sisters… sat silent for a moment. Then she said through a welling eye… that MUST be proof that God exists.”

The way she said it in context with some of her other statements came across to me this way, God made this place so it could sustain itself without Him needing to get in the mix.

I think that’s where I got my Deist approach to spirituality.

I think Deism settled into me on a road trip during the summer of 1975, in a tiny, canary yellow car with no A/C staring into the South Texas desert as an incarnation of The Divine spat out a little wisdom.

Shit… who knows, it could be a mutated gene.
Here’s to you, Señor [UU Deist takes a sip of beer and raises bottle up to Heaven]