My only hope when the clock struck midnight on January 1, 2022 was that this year would be worlds better than the last. So far, and I have no wood to knock on, things are going in the right direction. Really, though, after the last two, is there any direction that is NOT the right way? And nothing in these past months could have prepared me for the ironic collection of Tweety Bird.
It’s no secret that my mother was obsessed by that goddamn yellow bird. I would travel back to Boston, walk into my childhood home and be surrounded by Tweety. From glasses to figurines, and notepads, pens to calendars. When I took my mom out, she’d put on her Tweety shirt and off we’d go with Tweety on her key chain. Half laughing, half serious, I would comment on how that bird was everywhere possible. I even expected Tweety toilet paper in the bathroom but thankfully, I think, Warner Bros. doesn’t make that product.
And now, months in 2022 - in a strange twist of fate, that goddamn bird puts me in a place of calm. He makes me smile and he surrounds me with a sense of comfort. Perhaps, though, Tweety is something more.
Whether you believe in signs or not - it’s been a journey I could never have imagined. The day I was unpacking some of my mom’s things in my apartment, I was struck by the thought of getting a tattoo. I’ve always been fascinated by body art, but never felt the need to get one. Standing in my living room, unwrapping yet another Tweety Bird, I instantly knew what I was going to do and where I would get it painted. On top of it all, I am not a pack rack, I save nothing. Perhaps it’s because I have moved so much in my life that to make things easier, disposing of clutter makes each location easier. But, for some reason, in my stuff, was one - ONE - birthday card that my mom had sent me. And so, it is that signature that adorns my left arm along with that bird.
Recently, on a trip to an antique store in Palm Springs, after spending some time in room after room with my brother, I’d had enough of looking at old dust collectors and told everyone it was time to leave. Passing a showroom that we’d passed over and over that day, I took a quick glance inside and there on the shelf were tea cups with that yellow bird. How many times did we walk in that space that day? Yet on the way out, that’s when that goddamn bird decided to make its prescence known? I laughed as I bought them, shaking my head at the irony in the moment.
And now, my collection of yellow birds is growing. T-shirts, a hat, slipper socks, even cards arrive in the mail with him. I wear a Tweety pin on my shirts above my heart. And, the baseball cap to cover my messy hair is always the one with the lounging yellow bird.
What I would give to trade my love of Tweety to have my mom back this Mothers’ Day. Yet, I know if that were true, that I’d be greedy and want her for yet another day and another. I have missed her more than I can possibly describe. Her laughter, hugs, the scent of her White Diamonds on her skin as I kissed her cheek and just the sight of her sitting doing nothing with me. I think back on last summer and the weeks and days leading up to her leaving us and I’m filled with a mixture of sadness, smiles, and yes, even laughter. There was no better way for us to say good-bye except to never have had to say good-bye.
With her passing, Rosemarie has given me gift upon gift. The way I look at life, the way I conduct myself, the outlook I have on my job and the hope that I have for the future. And as this 2022 day for Mothers approach, I’m not sure how I will feel as the realization that she’s not here will make me feel. Yet, the one thing I do know, is that though she will not be physically with me from now until I see her again, when I’m feeling particularly lonely, I can flip open her White Diamonds body lotion, rub into in my Tweety tattoo and go to sleep with her scent surrounding my senses. I’ll open my eyes and I am comforted more than anyone can imagine that that goddamn yellow bird will be with me forever.
