WHEN LOUD IS NOT ALLOWED...

Vocal.Media.com has CHALLENGED me to CONFESS ALL MY DIRTY SECRETS... about the many mothers both well known and not in my life that have always guided... or politely tolerated... this LOUD, LITTLE GIRL who continues to meticulously WEAVE her way back and forth from "The Heights" of the South Suburban Chicagoland Region to "The Point" of the Northeastern Indiana Border...

WEAVING!!!

It's been over a year now since I've crossed that FINICKY state line... depending on whose actually keeping count. Like my Birth Mother, I still long for home. I still long for familiar smells and sounds. I long for whispers, whiskey, hearsay, games, and rumors... just like she did. Every once in awhile, while cleaning up the house, caring for a new guard dog she'll never get the chance to meet, making a cup of coffee - which most mothers would complain I made SO wrong - reading a paper, delivering some papers to my neighbors, reading what books I have left, or writing HERE on Vocal.Media... I catch glimpses of those loving mothers AS WELL AS fathers, children and pets! That's where HOME always has been to this Loud Little Girl. Some mother's are Stay-At-Home Mothers - like my Birth Mother and Step-Mother. Some are Working Mamas. Some are Elderly Grandmothers. Some are Neighbor Mamas. Those are the many mothers in my life that I owe an insurmountable debt of gratitude to...

LEARNING TO MAKE COFFEE... BETTER!

Oh yes, I still long for SAFE human connection. That simply means good music for me, which means SMART men... I suppose that would be where my Birth Mother's instincts that run through my veins as well weave into this story... We've both kissed PLENTY of frogs and have both courted some very, VERY nice men. (It took me 26 years, Mom, but I FINALLY bagged one up!!!)

Then, I get to meet the REAL mothers... and fathers... of all ages and races... that SOMEHOW understand... I really DON'T want to be the Crazy Woman SCREAM SINGING at the Canadian Geese WAY TOO EARLY IN THE MORNING during the month of May about my past because I ended up with a Bark Bark Guard Dog that's pretty damn LOUD...

BARK BARK!!!

I DON'T want to be the Lead Loud Bark Bark to RELOCATE any "flock" when all my neighbors all have their own Bark Bark Guard Dogs, jobs, lives, families and have always just been doing their own thing... I'll leave relocating metaphorical flocks to the pro's! Like pastors that have been to psychology school's! They can fight that fight! I figured this Mother's Day, let's give them a fair chance to do what they do without being interrupted... by ME and the LOUD BARK BARK I adore! Even if she pulls me into my neighbors gardens. Even if she doesn't ALWAYS listen to me! Even if she pulls me down. I love that dog as much as I love my Battle Buddy, Nitty cat!

YASS, I REMEMBER YOU... NO, I DON'T HATE ALL OF YOU!!!

If my Birth Mother were alive, she would probably be shaking her head with a deviant smirk. "What is this Little Girl going to do NOW???" And then she MIGHT say something BRILLIANT and SHARP in those few rare and quiet moments that I DO still recall. People wrote my Birth Mother off as a hopeless alcoholic. That's not who she always was! Society at every level shunned her and she was so, "PRIVATE" she didn't care. So, nobody would really listen to her. I would, though. She could say things I myself could never clearly articulate, and do things with so much poise, grace, and etiquette that goes WAY ABOVE my head. (Oh, so can my Step-Mom and pretty much every other NORMAL 32 year old woman...)

LOUD LITTLE GIRL THINKING...

But whatever she said or did BEFORE she became written off as just a hopeless drunk, MUST'VE made my father drop his keys, forget his belt, wallet, shoes, all while ignoring his parent's advice, her parent's disdain, until one day HE was on duty to load diaper bags, work bags, grocery bags, two little children, cats, dogs, and so much more... in and out of whatever car he could afford at the time. Always in a RUSH to get to work, help get my older sibling and myself to our baseball or soccer games, middle-school plays, checking work emails, and TRYING to squeeze a beer and meal in here or there... all while being the sort of man ANY smart woman would want to marry. Smiling, polite, humble, human... to a degree that shocks the Loud Little Girl and his Step-Wife to this very day...

If there's anything I wish to confess to my Step-Mother... and all the other mothers out there I need not name... it's my gratitude for the ALL the extra love and tender care they gave to my family NOW... pretty much to help make up for all the times my Old Man or Older Sibling were genuinely burnt during a marriage that trickled down a sad, sticky, cloudy - but always insightful - rabbit hole of a marriage during a time the state of Indiana certainly still seems frozen in, politically. (But, y'ass I like my coffee cold! And NO... I just stay out of that POLITICAL BUSINESS best I can...).

FATHER'S IN DISTRESS!!!

Yes, it's been quite some time since my Birth Mother passed away. However, standing by wedding vows through THICK and THIN is a serious subject matter to some that not ONLY my STEP-MOTHER, DECEASED MOTHER, and so many other MOTHERS out there that have all seen me be so LOUD with the Bark Bark Guard Dog I adore the most... they can at least all click their heels, mugs, vapes and smokes in solidarity to agree that THEIR music... is so much better than mine.

Awww... You Have Bluetooth, TOO???

The love and guidance of the many mothers - as well as the fathers that have labored to keep those women happy - have come from many. Like the spider plant that propagates plentiful that I still want to plant this season! When I walk the Bark Bark one way, I've looked up countless times and have ALWAYS seen the sign featuring this MOTHER'S DAY CHALLENGE story. A girl like myself CAN read it... She can also walk an Arubian cunucu rescue down it. She can also be told, "IT'S A MUTT. YOU CAN'T CALL IT THAT BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT IN ARUBA!!!" She can also be seen the SAME way my mother was perceived. That's where my Step-Mother, and just about EVERYONE ELSE, tries SO NICELY to come in and intervene... to tell me to take a deep breath and stop being so LOUD!!!

"OK!"

I vividly remember my Birth Mother telling me late one night, as she deeply inhaled her Virginia Slim, within what I've always referred to as her, "dungeon" or "lair" that if my Birth Father passed before her - they already decided mutually that it was OKAY for the other to move on. The two loved each other so dearly, or she WAS so insightful of her impeding death, that she warned me. I sat on that basement floor, smoking right along with her, that grimy floor with all the stains and ashes, from years of wear and tear, paws and claws, kids and teens, daughters she didn't know she had, and just thought, "Wow, they two really DID plan ahead...".

That dungeon or lair was really just a family basement, but that's where she chilled and smoked... would drink and think... listen to her music and write... laugh and call her friends... clean out litter boxes... do loads of laundry... let the dog in and out... I only know because I was down there doing the SAME things... That's where her children would play, the neighbor's children would gather and play and grow up with one another. That's where this LOUD Little Girl that writes this today, at 32 years of age, can STILL RECALL falling asleep WAY TOO EARLY during those LOUD and ROWDY sleepovers that likely make plenty of parents WORLDWIDE CRINGE with empathy and pity to this day...

THE REAL REALITY OF MOTHER'S...

Thank you, mothers and fathers that can relate... I'm just a mother to a Cat and a Bark Bark Guard Dog! I'll probably NEVER catch up. But, I'll always write about my journeys. Maybe I'll sing about them too, someday... My Birth Mother HATED toys that made NOISE, so she wouldn't purchase them. Thank God my Birth Father was DISTRACTED when I negotiated a guitar he forgot his sister had out of him during a baseball game. It's sad that my Birth Mother will never know that her two children would grow up and become small musicians in their own right. We have far different musical tastes. She'll never know that my older sibling is FAR more skilled at playing the Bass than I'll ever be at singing, playing guitar, playing piano, pretty much anything. They are older than me. And mother's have a pretty strong attachment to their first born children - that's just basic biology and instinct.

I'll always protect my older sibling's Bark Bark Guard Dog with the help of all the mothers in my new neighborhood, and be GRATEFUL. There IS a woman in my father's life that is caring for him. There's just as many men in my life that are trying to help me as well. Who care's if it's Mother's Day. For any mother - be it young, old, black, white, human or not - always respect those mothers. 'Cause, WHEN MAMA AIN'T HAPPY, AIN'T NOBODY HAPPY!!!

Oh!