Mama went to Heaven, and I stayed in Starkville to grieve

Nothing has ever stressed out your humble narrator like God calling Mama to Heaven.

For months she talked about wanting to travel to Ireland with me in 2011 when I run the Dublin Marathon and how she wanted to visit Suzanne and Caleb in Missouri, but she never said jack about wanting to visit Heaven anytime soon.

In recent weeks while spending time with Granny, I learned about other secrets and trickery Mama committed while living with her mother just months ago. When I delivered a pizza to Granny’s house on Saturday, she told me about one of Mama’s tricks.

“She’d roll her wheelchair into the kitchen and pick up the phone book,” Granny said, sitting at her kitchen table, slice of pepperoni pizza in hand. “A little while later they’d deliver a pizza.”

Basically, I grew up with Mama my entire life, so I knew about the trickery she could pull. She also could appreciate the mischief of others. For example, when she discovered how the night before my birthday that year I snuck into the kitchen, quietly found a butter knife, opened the box to my Spider-Man birthday cake, removed his icing head and ate it, she just smiled and asked “Do you have any sense?”

Mama, if you’re listening from Heaven, I finally have an answer to that question. Here it is: No.

Footage from videos I took of Mama in recent years threw me for a loop about a week ago when I watched them again.



Reviewing what she had to say on film, it seems like she was up to her old tricks. She didn’t outright say it, but she sure hinted about taking to take a trip to Heaven before too long.

I will always love that woman with everything humanly and spiritually possible.

I know she wouldn’t want me to stress out too much about her taking a trip without giving me too much advanced warning. However, this sure ain’t the first time I’ve done something I know she wouldn’t have approved. Many moons ago, back when I had fewer laugh wrinkles and was a little less educated, the little boy version of me aggravated the mess out of her inside Fred’s Dollar Store. I kept bringing toys up to her buggy in the store to ask if she’d buy them for me. For some reason, she tired of this after about four or five times.

“No. The answer is no,” she said, looking down at me. “You can’t have anything in this store unless it’s free.”

And so you ask, what did your humble narrator do then? Well, I did the best I could to come up with a plan. One item at a time, I took each toy I wanted, including He-Man’s Battle Cat, and approached store employees.

“Is this free?” I asked each time, using my saddest face.

I usually went home without a toy, but I sure remember Mama laughing.

Honestly, I don’t care if she likes it or not, I’m going to stay stressed out from her going to Heaven.

Even though I can’t hug you anymore or call or visit you at home or at Granny’s house, I know you never left me, and I’ll never leave you.

I love you, Mama.