Mom is a crazy ol bat, through and through. She has taken to miming as another form of communication, more for kicks than out of true necessity (as in she’s perfectly able to speak). This is the quirkiness that is Mom. Back in the hospital -- perhaps at a time when she truly could not speak as well as she’d like -- she’d Marcel Marceau the universal sign for lip gloss, moving her index finger painfully slow over her lips. Round and round she’d go until someone would catch on that she meant lip gloss. Similarly, the universal sign for socks, shoes and pedicure (as it turns out) is to wiggle her feet -- everyone knows that. And, our true favorite, she’s been Marcel Marceauing her emotions, drawing a line down her cheek for ‘tear’ (typically a sarcastic tear which only means that she’s making fun of us or being melodramatic in mime-speak), or using her fingers to bring up the corners of her mouth in a smile. She often does other random things like launching into one of her old
That random, spirited, quirky attitude pays dividends when she has to deal with some of the not-so-pleasant side effects of her brain cancer. No matter how her body changes, more days than not, she has a cheery disposition and positive attitude. This is not to say that sadness, anger and the like aren’t completely normal and embraced. We just don’t see it all that often. When most would feel modest, embarrassed, or uncomfortable, she stands tall (or kinda tall, more like a little crooked), smiles and deals with it as it comes -- courageously, without hesitation, and with that quirkiness that is truly her own. -- E
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