Getting Mothered and Loving It

When I read the “I luv you mammy!” updates on Facebook, I thought I had blown it.

Isn’t Mother’s Day in May?

“Maybe in America, but not here,” said a friend, explaining Indonesia’s late-December observance.

But that’s just as well. And fitting. Elsie was in town and I was more than happy to confuse her, too, with some flowers and a special meal out.

My mom has made house calls in every port her journalist son has called home over the years. From Denver’s Capitol Hill to Hong Kong’s Kennedy Road, Elsie has blown in and sucked up all the dirt she could find as soon as she could get her hands on the vacuum cleaner.

No, she’s not germ-obsessive. It’s just that no matter if you’re 15 or 51, it’s the first job of every visiting mother to find the dust ball hiding under the far corner of your sofa. Even with the maid standing beside her.

“Now I can sleep better,” she’d say, smiling like a cat licking its mouse-flavored whiskers.

This would be her second Jakarta vacation. The first last June nearly didn’t happen. After reading about earthquakes, mudflows and bird flu, I had to literally pull her aboard the plane as I escorted her from her Hawaii home.

“I don’t know about this. This is the most dangerous place you’ve ever lived,” she said nervously.
“Yes, mom. I almost slipped on a wet spot at the mall last week,” I replied.

Her attitude would soon change faster than a Permata Hijau traffic light. After three weeks of air-conditioned sightseeing and home-delivered reflexology, Elsie went from “I don’t want to go to Indonesia” to “I bought a shirt I want to give to Hendrik the massage boy the next time I come.”

That says as much about the charms of this country as it does about my mom’s affection for nice people. She didn’t forget the beautiful blooms at the Bogor Botanical Gardens. And she came back armed with gifts that included boxes of chocolate-covered macadamia nuts and Hendrik’s first piece of Hawaiian clothing.

Did I mention that Elsie is 87 years old?

Anyone should feel blessed to have healthy and mobile elderly parents. My dad Thomas died peacefully the week before his 90th birthday. And despite the expected aches and pains of senior citizenry, Elsie still drives her own car back home. She even made the trip to Soekarno-Hatta on her own this time, at her insistence.

“Don’t forget I need my artificial sweetener,” she said as we rode in from the airport.

The month we would spend together this time included Christmas, which I unfortunately had to observe on assignment in Palestine. And the week before I had a long scheduled working trip to Pakistan. But I dutifully called each day on the road, making sure she received the lunchboxes I preordered and that no emergencies had arisen.

“When are you coming home?” she would ask. “Saturday,” I would say, then add other details of my journey.

“When are you coming home?” she again questioned, as if it was the first time she asked.

Right then I realized my mother was showing a bit of her age, not as sharp with the short-term memory as she’s been all her life. I found her repeating statements as well, such as “You’d better buy more milk,” almost to the point of annoyance.

But hey – again I’m among the more fortunate sons (and daughters) who don’t having to cope with more serious case of senility or devastating Alzheimer’s disease. So I gladly give Elsie the same answer in the same tone.

“Oh, OK, hurry home, yeah?” she would say, ending the phone conversation.

There are very few true instances of unconditional love, defined as “the giving of affection and support without hesitation or personal concern”.  A mother’s love definitely falls in that category, and we must honor and pay living tribute to that fact in all the ways we can.

Mom, I am no longer bothered that you blamed a visitor for taking your tongue cleaner from your bathroom, an item you would later find elsewhere.

I will always react with the same interest when you say “Your cousin Daphne now takes me to the hairdresser” three times in two minutes.

And I refuse to get impatient when you take a bit longer each time to get out of the elevator.

It’s Mother’s Day every day where I live. And I will spend the rest of your life letting you know that.

Hawaii native Dalton Tanonaka is the co-anchor of Metro TV’s Indonesia Now program, broadcast on Saturday mornings at 9 a.m. and Sundays at 1 a.m. He can be reached at dalton@metrotvnews.com.

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