(most of this is inside joke material, but for any of my friends who read this drivel and have crossed paths with my mother and/or her sons and daughters, you may get a kick out of it. Initially, I was not going to post it, but some of my family members have requested it to be posted. If any of my family members who have not read it are offended, that was indeed my intent)
To my mother, from one of her sons:
You know you’re not getting a gift, right? Let’s just clear that up real quick before you get your hopes up on some cruise ship long liner ticket with your first angry mate, sister Mary, coming along only as baggage. I didn’t even get a call from you on my last birthday, January THE 14TH!!! I haven’t slept since. Ok, now for the happy go fortunate stuff. (I don’t believe in luck)
I had a dream the other night where I was sitting on a park bench waiting for a train. A man next to me was holding a child not looking much older than one, so I assumed he couldn’t speak using words other than “mama”, “da da”, or perhaps “shit”. These are the words infants use and abuse so quickly. The man could recognize I was bored and I was chuckling at the infant, equally as bored, being fumbled about by the father’s hands trying to keep the child occupied. Yet, it wasn’t the man who spoke first, it was the child. The child looked at me and asked me if I had any older brothers, and I said, with a smile, yes. The child then asked, “how many?” Six. This always raises an eyebrow with people, which is fun if they don’t know any of them. He then asked if I had any older sisters, and before I could reply, the father replied, “yes, he has six older sisters as well”. I looked at him and we both smiled and the dream ended. I had never met this man and he had never met our family, but I looked at him as though he was an angel. Now, you’re thinking I’m going to call you an angel since it’s your birthday, right? Not so fast, mother. You’re one tier ahead.
Not being much of a church going religious bloke anymore, I still maintain faith in God, mostly because of you and dad. I believe you summon these angels to protect goofballs like me from imminent danger we sometimes bring upon ourselves. You look at someone like me, or any other of our family members and say, “Ok, this person is going to need an angel”. That’s where the negotiations start with you and a guy referred to as God.
God: Ok, Margaret, how many angels do you need?
Mom: (sheepishly) Well, it depends on which son or daughter you’re talking about.
God: Mike. Isn’t he the one who has a great deal of arrogance……eh hmm…pardon me, confidence in one’s self?
Mom: I guess you could say that.
God: I like that guy. He’ll be the angel of fun when he makes it here!
Mom: So, probably two.?
God: Done……..who’s next? I know there is a long list and I have some Mormons knocking on my door who even have more requests than you so give it to me straight and quick.
God: Hmm…….has she calmed down on the racial slur bit, and how about those meltdowns?
Mom: Yes……..I think.
God: As long as Anne is still in the picture, only three should do………NEXT!
God: None. That guy can take care of himself. And, don’t worry, there is a stool ready for him anytime right next to me. I love to laugh. NEXT!
God: This is a tough one. I think I’ve sinned more than him. Let’s just make him an angel and call it good, ok?
Mom: Ok, Theresa?
God: She’s good. But she’s good enough to have four floating around from time to time just to keep her from developing a southern accent. The next time I hear the phrase, “I hope ya’ll can forgive me” I’m sending them on the express way to Hell. NEXT!
Mom: (while laughing) Anne?
God: You’re wasting my time, Mrs. Gannon. You already know she’s an angel. Oh, and by the way, the next time you catch her, tell her Missy is hanging out in my back cloud with a couple of llamas. NEXT!
God: I’ve already been working on this one but none of my angels can find him. I have like, thirteen working on the case.
Mom: I understand. Dorothy?
God: I can give you five…….
Mom: If you take one away from Aaron’s case, can you give me six?
God: Done. NEXT!
God: I have to check her file. Hmm…..seems to be a good woman, but as a flight attendant, she does need at least one.
Mom: But she was a cheerleader in high school…….do you know what roads she must avoid because of her good looks?
God: You’re right, I’ll give you eight.
Mom: Will you make sure they are civil war buffs? Please?
God: For you, yeah yeah yeah.
God: Does she have a husband that goes by the name of Jerry, (and chuckling) aka Aldieny, aka McNuggets?
Mom: (unaware of where this question is leading) yesssss???
God: Ha! I’ve heard about this guy. We signed him up years ago. He’s been an angel for years. And by the way, Maggie has sent more business this way than Donald Trump has toupees. I love that gal. Next.
Mom: Thank you. Greg?
God: This is another tough one because our angels don’t care for being hidden in a two hundred dollar bottle of balsamic vinegar. Let’s see……isn’t he a reverend in the Catholic Church?
Mom: (excited) YES.
God: Well then he’ll need ten for every commandment.
Mom: Done. Again thank you. Tom?
God: You know this is a tough one as well. When remembering him, I even have to say ten Hail Marys. I once had a dream where he screwed me over on a business deal while playing monopoly. I’m reluctant to give him any angels just out of spite, but out of complete and utter fury, mixed in with some forgiveness which is supposed to go along with this territory, I’ll waver and give him six angels for Park Place and Boardwalk Avenue……and no, Tom will not get his railroads back in return. NEXT.
God: Don’t you think the twelve you’ve already assigned to him has been enough?
Mom: Yes, but, with complete reverence, you forgot that he has thirteen angels.
God: I AM NEVER WRONG!!!! (heavenly volcanoes erupt with serious lava) HOW DARE YOU QUESTION ME???
Mom: (unfazed) You don’t remember the request for that Brittney girl? Well it’s working out and I just wanted to thank you. Cool that volcano crap down now, please, it’s my birthday. I have enough candles to blow out on my own.
God: Oh yes. You are welcome. I thought you said that girl’s name was Gortney.
Mom: Good bye and God ble………..wait………who blesses you?
God: GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!
Mom, you are an inspiration to so many people inside and outside of our family. You gave me hope, faith, love and laughter every time I needed it and you still do to this very special day. Thank you. Happy Birthday, you old bag of gifts.