There are three gentlemen who show up in the park on Saturday’s. I have known them now going on two years; they have been there since the start of me going to the park. A few months ago they started referring to me as “MA” and I in turn refer to them as the “The good son”, “The quiet son” and “The brat”. Each one of them a bit older than me, but they still call me Ma.
Recently someone in the park mentioned to them that they should have more respect and should not refer to me as Ma. I explained that I do not take offense to them calling me that and it was a joke between us. The more I thought about it, that simple word “MA” has become much more.
When I hear them call me that I think of Ma Kettle from the old TV show. A woman standing on her front porch, hair a mess, beat up clothes with a corncob pipe hanging from her mouth. Bare footed at times, laughing yet feisty, but always ready to welcome in friends and the passer bye. So, does this offend me? NO.
Why? Because even though the word Ma may not bring thoughts of a woman with great dignity or authority, it has attached to it words that bring much more meaning, friendliness and the sense of comfortableness. It tells me that we are growing closer in our relationships with our friends, they are becoming more and more comfortable with us; they look at us as friends and family. They have even said we are having a family picnic each week, not a feed. So, in the end do I mind being called Ma? No, I find myself humbled and honored to be given the title of “MA”.
Posts
