Your Mother Is So Uptight.....

that people routinely jest that she must have had a rod inserted in her ass. What they fail to realize, however, is how close this comes to the truth. Whenever someone mentions the proverbial rod, you fake a laugh and say apologetically, “Come on guys, she’s not that bad.” You do this to draw attention away from your own guilty countenance, your eyes cast downward, since your mother does actually have a stainless steel rod and it’s there because of you. Let’s be clear, though: it’s not up her ass; the rod was surgically grafted into the lumbar section of her spine after her back was broken in a car crash. A car crash that you caused.

It happened the same day you passed your driving test, and afterwards you begged your mom to let you drive home on the freeway. She was naturally apprehensive, you being such a new driver and also (it pained her to admit) not the smartest of her children, but you persisted (in that high-pitched wail you always use to get your way — you know what I’m talking about) until she finally gave in on the condition that you keep it under 50 miles an hour and only take the freeway for a single exit. Immediately, you swerved into traffic without checking all three mirrors. As though you’d already forgotten your driver’s ed classes, your hands were all over the wheel instead of the recommended 10 o’clock and 2 o’clock position. Other drivers honked and shook angry fists at you and your mother politely suggested that you pay more attention to what was going on around you.

Blame the exuberance of the new driver, blame the sting of her criticism, but regardless of the mitigating circumstances, at that moment you stomped down on the accelerator, a desperate gleam in your eye. A split-second later the car was upside-down on the exit shoulder. The car had only a single airbag, keeping you safe, but your mother was thrown forward with such force that when the seatbelt stopped her it broke two of her vertebrae. Before the police and ambulance arrived, you both stayed in the car, still strapped painfully in your seats, clutching hands and crying. You sobbed profuse apologies for those few minutes that seemed to you both to last for days. Your mother, though she was in great pain, told you over and over that it would be okay.

Although her injuries were minor compared to what they might have been, her specific type of spinal trauma was degenerative. After wearing a back brace for five months, she was, at first, fine. It was only after another two years that the long term affects of the injury began to show. Before long, her pain became unbearable. The only choice, Dr. Zakorsky told her, was to fuse a section of her spine via rod-insertion. Her movement would be greatly impaired (she can no longer tie her own shoes or use a standard toilet), but to be rid of the debilitating pain it was a small price to pay.

However, after the fusion she became increasingly curt in her demeanor. She began rudely interrupting people and had seemingly lost all tolerance for others. She and your father haven’t been intimate in four years (he now discreetly visits prostitutes twice a month, of which your mother is aware, which, as much as she hides it, fills her with shame and only exacerbates her bitterness toward you). To help alleviate the burden of your guilt for having caused all this, you now drink heavily in secret. It makes things bearable, but only just. Next week you’re planning on visiting your parents, but you already know what you’ll find and it fills you with despair.