Yesterdays blog about my “anger” or lack there of got me thinking about cuss words. I was talking to John (aka guywithtwins) not long ago and he said a word, actually 2 words that absolutely drive me crazy if I hear someone say them. Telling me a story about something or other and the Lord’s name got used in vain. I immediately recoil when I hear someone say that. Probably why I never liked George Carlin since I like most comedians. So I said, John, I really really really hate it when people say that. So would you not say that when you are talking to me? Ok, he said. Just slipped out and not something I say very often. By the way, if you are going to say Freaking you might as well say the real word cause that’s what you mean. Ok, I said. Not a problem.
A little later I was talking about having gone and walked and said “it was freaki….I mean _ _ _ _ing hot outside…(joking just to see what he did, people..remember I don’t cuss). He said, “guess freaking is fine LeeAnn.” LOL I didn’t realize how often I say that. Trying to break the habit because he’s right.
I remember when I was a little girl and my dad drank (before he became a Christian) he would cuss like a sailor. (I need to google that and see where that phrase originated…note to self) Anyway, his language was not something he censored. My mom on the other hand never cussed that I can remember. She would say Oh, foot! Or Shoot, or darn. Never the real words. My dad would go out of his way to embarrass us whenever a preacher would come to visit and see where the “visiting with the neighbors” child (that would be me) came from and to invite my family to church. Not only would he pop open a couple of beers but he would go full scale on the foul language. When he became a Christian years later, he stopped cussing, drinking and smoking all at the same time. It would always make me laugh when he would say Oh, Fudge. And he quit saying the JC or GD thing entirely. Which was awesome!
Now, Mike and I didn’t cuss much to begin with and after Chris was born it would be very rare to hear a cuss word come out of our mouth in the presence of our children anyway. When Chris was a little boy of about 3 he came home one day from being at my mom’s and was playing with some blocks. The tower he was building fell over and he said, Well Shit!....I turned around and said “what did you say William Christopher Byers?” well shit! He repeated. Where did you hear that I said because that is a very bad thing to say and I better not ever hear you say it again! “mema” he said. She said it. I called my mom and said do you know what your grandson just said and said you said? Sorry, she said. I cuss sometimes when I’m by myself and I forgot for a minute he was with me. I started to laugh. What do you mean you cuss when you are by yourself? She said, oh everyone has some cuss words they need to get our of their system every now and then. I would never say them out loud if anyone was around. I slipped up. I’ll talk to Chris. A few days later, after Chris had spent a couple hours with my mom I asked him if Mema had talked to him about not cussing. He said, yea mama..she said if I needed to get a bad word out to say it when no one was around to hear it. I called her…Mom, I said, did you tell Chris he could cuss as long as he did it when no one could hear him? Sort of she said. I told him that if he ever had a bad word that needed to come out to say it really quiet under his breath…or to tell me he needed to say a bad word and I’d let him say it just one time. I laughed until I cried. My mom was a rare and precious woman…I miss her so much.
Years later, when my boys were almost grown and my sister had her kids my mom had a whole new “batch” of grandkids to spoil and entertain. One day I was visiting and my sister and I left Eric and Anna with my mom to run to the store. We got just out of the driveway and I remembered I had left my purse on the bed upstairs. So we turned around and I ran upstairs to get it. My mom did not hear me come in. Neither did Eric and Anna who were about 2 and 3 at the time. As I walked up the stairs I heard my mom saying Now what’s that horses name again? And Eric would yell SHIT and then Anna would yell DAMMIT. When she turned and saw me she turned bright red. The kids looked very afraid. What are you doing? , I asked. “they are getting their cuss words out of their system, “ she said…As if that were the most natural thing in the world. Apparently, one of the kids had gotten in trouble at day care for saying a bad word. And so, she had talked to them about it and how it wasn’t nice to say bad words…and then gave them the advice she had given Chris…but with an added twist. They could only say the bad word at her house, when no one else was around. They had promised her. And so she in her silly, fun, unique manner had let them name the 2 horses that were embroidered on the quilt upstairs in the spare room Shit and Dammit. And it had become their special, secret game to play. There were no more incidents at daycare. Maybe she had a point?
Fast forward a year or so later. My precious mom had lost her battle with pancreatic cancer and we were all reeling from the loss. Connie had a particularly hard time because she lived in Kingfisher and saw my mom daily, as did her kids. To hear her name, or see a photo was excruciatingly painful to her. And so anytime her kids mentioned MeMe as they called her Connie would start to cry. The kids, not wanting to see her cry would immediately stop talking about her and clam up. I missed my mom terribly. But I handled it exactly the opposite. I wanted to talk about her all the time after she died. (still do). I put up more pictures of her, visited the gravesite as often as possible to “talk” to her. One day a few months after her death I was in Kingfisher. Connie left to run an errand. I went upstairs to get something and Eric and Anna followed me. As we passed the door to the guest room I saw them look at each other, silently sharing the memory of the secret they had with MeMe. I said, come on guys. Lets go check on your horses. And we went into the room. Untouched. I looked at Anna and said “What is that horses’ name pointing at the one she called Dammit. “Dammit” she whispered. And that ones Shit Eric said quietly. I can’t hear you I said closing the door. Tell me again. Within minutes they were jumping up and down on the bed shouting Shit and Dammit and we laughed until we cried. I think my mom was looking down from heaven that day and smiling. A family tradition preserved. LOL
From that day on anytime I visited Kingfisher, Eric and Anna and I would send their mom off on an errand and we would go upstairs and “visit the horses”. A few years later, when my dad moved into town and the guest room was “no more” I took the quilt with the horses on it, gave it to my sister and made her promise to keep it for her kids. And I told her why. And now she knows the story. As do all of you blog readers. Don’t know if my mom would be embarrassed that I told it. I don’t think so. I wouldn’t. And I think in a lot of ways I am just like my mom. What a wonderful thing to have her smile, her sense of humor and her quirkiness.
I was walking at the park a couple of day ago and as I passed a mom that was walking with her little boy who looked about 4 or 5, he tripped and said “shit”. Then realized what he had said and looked very afraid. The mom scolded him, using his full name. Tell the nice lady you are sorry for saying a bad word she said to him, looking at me. His eyes were filled with tears as he said I’m sorry lady. Its ok I said, bending down to pat him on the head. I had little boys once. Just don’t say that out loud anymore ok? I whispered. He nodded. And in Heaven, my mama smiled.
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