I just found this online and think it is worth sharing. It was posted by someone named Rocket on a board that I read from time to time, but I am not sure what Rocket's real name is: (It has some typos and I am posting it "as is" because I think it is beautiful!)
Scaling the fence I lean forwarded looking. A few months earlier I had lost my footing. Failing I had sliced open my chin requiring stitches. That scar I would carry with me the rest of my life. It was worth it though. At six years old there was nothing more important to me then my mom. Leaning as far over the fence as I could I looked to see if she was coming. It was a ritual I performed every day. I didn`t see much of my mom. Most mornings she was gone before I got up. So perched a top the fence I watched and waited. I was always anxious for her to come home. There I spot her! Small at first she becomes bigger with each step she takes She rode the bus to and from work every day and would continue to do so for many years. Jumping from the fence yelling I ru8n to her. She was young and beautiful.
"Did you get any tips today," I would always ask?
I always enjoyed watching her count her tips. It was time I got to spend with her and I cherished every minute of it. It would be many years later before I realized the importance of those tips.
My mom was a fighter. She was an escapee of an abusive marriage. A single parent raising two young boys long before the term single parenting was coined and became fashionable. She was my role model. My hero. Though she worked 10 hours a day 6 days a week she always found time for me and my younger brother. She had no time for herself. No men or dates and she has never remarried And for the next 40 years she would serve others as well. She was a waitress. So every day for many years I climbed the fence looking for her. As those years went by things began to change. Her walk slowed. She stooped forward from back pain. Blue and purple lines ran up and down her legs. Those lines were in fact busted blood vessels from standing too long and walking too much. I hadn`t realized as I grew older so did she. But each night she would count her tips. I of course hadn`t realized that those tips were her main source of income. To me it was just nickels, dimes and quarters. To her (and us) it was our means of survial. It was those nickels, dimes and quarters that bought me my first baseball glove. That allowed me to go to the movies on Saturday mornings. To buy my first girlfriend a box of candy. To feed me, clothe me and send me to school.
Today when visiting food establishments I will not leave anything less then a ten dollar tip. A few years ago on Christmas morning I stopped at a place for a cup of coffee. It was one of those all night joints and it was early morning. A pretty young waitress took my order.
"You must hate working Christmas day," I asked?
"I do and my kids hate it even more," was her response.
"How many kids you got," I ask?
"Two young boys."
"I bet they`re a handful," I laugh.
"Boy are they," she say smiling.
As she walked away I was a top that fence again looking for my mom. The memories overwhelmed me. Taking five 20 dollar bills from my pocket I place them under the empty coffee cup. Leaving I walk to the door and stop. I had to make certain she got the money. Clearing away the table she suddenly turns scanning the room. I saw she had the bills in her hand. Our eyes met and she moves her lips forming the words thank you. Yelling across the room I tell her, "no thank you."
That`s something I never told my mom.
A TRIBUTE TO YOU MOM ON MOTHER`S DAY
THANK YOU
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The above piece I wrote for my mom on Mother`s Day, 1997. Ten short months later she was gone. She passed away on March 25, 1998. Death is inevitable so my tip to those reading this is don`t put off until tomorrow what you ca do or say today. Tell your moms, dads, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, wives and husbands you love them every day. In a blink of an eye they can be gone. There is no guarntee of a tomorrow.
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Someone else mentioned that TIPS stands for "to insure proper service", but I think we should think of it as "to insure proper survival". 1|1|Vanessa, thank you for sharing this with us....made me think of my mom too (and more than one fond, similar memory from my days as a waitress)....|saint6811|waylan@comcast.net|19:22:02|02/18/2009|
"Middle age is when you choose your cereal for the fiber, not the toy." 2|1|That brought tears to my eyes...how incredibly beautiful....|kellysp6637|frugalk76@aol.com|19:45:47|02/18/2009|
I remember being a single mom and working three jobs to provide for what little my son and I had....it really doesn't seem that far ago...
I remember one night sitting on the couch counting out my change while my son was on the floor happily watching his cartoons as I counted my change hoping I would have enough for gas and milk the next day...............this tribute clearly brought back those vivid memories and how so many moms out there do everything they can to provide for their children.....
Hats off to moms everywhere who go without, sleepness nights, endless kisses on boo boos and endless support of their children...
You all are #1 3|1|Just beautiful!! As one who counts on tips, thank-you!|Mackiesmudder|Mackiesmudder@aol.com|02:39:00|02/19/2009|
Cathie 4|2|Loved this also! my mom was a waitress for many years & I also, we really counted on those tips to feed our familys and ourselfs..|HONEY11|HONEY1@AMERITECH.NET|17:20:29|02/19/2009|
One person caring about another represents life's greatest value.
o
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Linda