Oh Mother

When people meet me for the first time they see this whole person. I have my health, my limbs and a good sense of humor. I am funny, nice and fairly intelligent. Nothing seems out of place until they ask me about my mother. This is cringe inducing for me. I have spent my whole life trying to make people feel comfortable and having to disclose that my mother is no longer living seems to throw all comfort out the window. The last thing I want is for someone to say "I'm Sorry" or have them automatically feel sorry for me. The first day of sixth grade (a month after her passing) my teacher, the tall blond and lanky Ms. Fulco asking me where my mother's info was on my lunch form. She asked me in front of the whole class and I remember turning beet red. With my eyes looking towards the floor all I could mutter in a soft voice was "She is deceased". I heard my aunt say that once and I decided to use it in this instance. I figured no one else in class would know what that meant. She looked at me crestfallen as if her own mother had died. I felt horrible. Not because I didn't have a mother but because my not having a mother made someone else feel awkward. I have always hated that feeling. It makes people think about the mortality of their own mothers. No one ever likes to think in those terms. I inadvertently force it upon them. Even sixteen years later when people ask me where my mom is I am very hesitant to talk about it.