Thursday, May 22, 2014

The bug man and my mother....who knew?

After a death, people have to be notified.  I've written countless notes to doctors and nurses and administrators informing them of my mother's death and thanking those I felt went above and beyond the job. I've alerted credit card companies and insurance agencies. I've talked to strangers in estate departments of varies companies. Inevitably I've forgotten someone.

This past week as I worked at my mother's condo, I've taken to referring to it as The Condo as if it is a separate entity placed in a town solely for my own purpose, whatever that may be, the bug man was just learning of her death from the president of the condo board. It had crossed my mind the week before that I should inform the bug man of my mother's death. He has known my mother for over ten years, first while he was with  Terminix, and then when he branched out and formed his own company. My mother was the first customer to go with him to his new company, she the champion of free enterprise, and he never forgot that. Recently, she had helped him score a big contract with her condo association for a major termite infestation and then to a contract to provide monthly service to all 19 condos. He also services my home, and he is forever telling me how wonderful my mother is for helping him out through the years. Thus I did think of alerting him to her death, but calling him went to the back of my mind.

So Monday as I was coming back through the parking lot after dropping off a load of keepsakes to my car there was the bug man, CB. He was shaking his head and his expression was all droopy, and I immediately felt as guilty as I felt after the grocery cashier asked how my mother was and I said, "Well, she died two days ago," and the woman promptly started crying. I felt terrible.

CB:  "I just heard about Connie."

Me:  "Yes, I'm sorry. You're on my list of people to tell."

CB:  "I can't believe it. I can't believe she is gone." More sad shaking of the head. "I'm so sorry."

Me:  "Thank you."

CB:  "I just can't believe it. Ah.  I just... Oh. She was great. I'm just so sad."

This went on in this vein with him not being able to spit out his sorrow, and me not knowing what to say to him and wishing that I had called his secretary on the phone. He is a nice guy and all, and I know he really enjoyed my mom, but I'm uncomfortable with everyone telling me how sorry they are that she is gone. I feel the need to comfort them when they are trying to comfort me and it just makes me well, uncomfortable. Finally he stopped speaking and we stood in silence for a few seconds and then he looked at me.

CB:  "She had a picture..."

At the start of this, I felt a bit of joy. I have asked different people if they want something from my mother's belongings, and other than a few little minor items, most people have turned me down. It has made me sort of sad as if passing on her things would bring joy and remembrance, and I had just expressed this feeling to my aunt on the phone right before coming downstairs to load my car. When CB began with, "She had a picture..." and stopped I immediately felt joy and then thought of all of the pictures on her walls, wondering which one he could possibly want.

Me:  "I hope I haven't tossed it out!"

CB:  "She had a picture....well...I'm not sure why I would even want this, but...it was a picture of your mom swinging, I think an imaginary golf club, under a sprinkler...and she's naked."

And then he looked at me and smiled and said something about how that picture was so Connie and how he just loved it. I'm really not sure how much of what he told me got through to me because seriously, I was so taken back that this guy wanted a naked picture of my mother that I was trying desperately to keep my mouth closed, and I was very grateful for my sunglasses over my bulging eyes.

I did know the picture he was talking about, vaguely. Back in the 90's she had visited her sister in her log cabin in the woods of California where the community swims in the river sans clothing unless visitors are uncomfortable. As I remember the story, the group was discussing this outside my aunt's house and they convinced my mother that it was no big deal to be naked. She stripped down and ran through a sprinkler. I remembered the picture of her as one where she was standing naked, her arms help aloft, as the sprinkler coated her with water. I vaguely remembered another picture of her doing a golf swing. She loved that she had done this, this what-she-would-have-once-described-as-shocking thing, and so she set the picture out in plain view, first on her entertainment center, then on a bookshelf, and then on her desk.

CB:  "I just love that picture. It was so free, and she was so free. It was so your mom, swinging that club under a sprinkle."

Me:  "Well, I can honestly say that I haven't seen that picture in awhile and the only naked picture I've found so far is one of my nephew as a kid that I'm holding on to for blackmail."

CB:  "Well, it was a great picture. I just loved it."

I had no response to that, and thankfully my mother's neighbor came out just then to yell down at the bug man. He thanked him for something CB had done and then he turned to me and asked me if I needed some help, and since I did I waved at CB and practically ran toward the neighbor.  CB headed back to his truck and the neighbor and I went about lugging down bags of trash and bags of give a way items, and I promptly forgot the conversation.

Until I got home that evening and was lying in bed thinking back over the day. Suddenly the whole conversation came back to me and I couldn't stop laughing.  The bug man, a man who is younger then me, wanted a naked photo of my dead mother as a keepsake to remember her by. How hilarious is that?

My brother was horrified, and apparently has never seen the photo. My youngest thought it "weird". My oldest giggled. My friend, Kelly, wondered aloud if the bug man had taken any of my mom's panties as souvenirs during his in-home spraying. My husband was thankful the bug man doesn't enter our home. My mother's cleaning lady, who I called about the location of the picture, declared him a "pervert". I still laugh at the whole thing because I know that my mom would have LOVED it. I can picture her expression and everything. She would have been thrilled that he had asked for that.

So I searched today and found the photo hidden between two books on a bookshelf.
(I've hidden the nudity since it is better left to the bug man)

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