The Woman Holdin' the Ladder

My mother gets on my nerves most days.



I love my mother very much.



But she gets on my nerves.



I work with her. We sit in the same office across the room from each other forty hours a week. I've been involved in this business since I was ten. Dad would take me on jobs and I'd do what I could to help. I spent my summers growin' up diggin trenches, layin' pipe for septic systems, under kitchen sinks, and unstopping commodes. Lotta people don't even like cleanin' their own toilets let alone diggin' around in someone else's.



In the last year and a half, I've been runnin' the office with my mother. Someone calls and it's our job to get customer information. She knows this, I know this, it's not hard but it's about seventy percent of what we do. Still, everytime I answer the phone she feels the need to tell me exactly what to do and how to do it.

No man needs anyone else keepin' a leash on him like that.

I don't need anyone tellin' me how to dress, comb my hair, walk, talk, or otherwise crticizin' my every move. My mother is one to do that kind of thing. She tells me she doesn't like that I stay out til midnight or later. She doesn't like the way I drive. She thinks I should take business classes instead of English. Nothin' I do is ever good enough. I quit tryin' to make her happy a long time ago because I don't believe I could ever do it.

I know she does these things out of love.

There is no question in my mind that she's lookin' out for me in her own way. She wants me to be educated in business so that whatever industry I'm in I will be a good business man. She wants to dress me up so I look nice. She wants me home early so she knows I'm safe. (Yeah, I'm 24 and still livin at home with my momma.) She loves me. I know she does but she has her own stubborn way of showin' it and tryin' to make me a better man. At least a better man than my sister's father anyway.

My mother was born in Coahuila, Mexico in May of 1952. She was the middle child among her eight siblings. She helped raise those that came behind her. She wound up dropping out of school after second grade. (Think about this for a minute, how much did you know after second grade? How to read a few words? Simple math? How to cut paper without cuttin' your fingers off? That's about it really.)

She worked the majority of her young life doin' chores, changin' diapers, cookin' and cleanin'. When she was about eighteen her family was as poor as they'd ever been. She couldn't find the kind of work that would really do her family any good. So, she filled out the proper paperwork, paid the fees, waited the long waits, stood in the long lines, and got her green card.

She came to America, alone, with no formal education, with only the hope of finding work to send back to her family. She didn't speak very good english or have nice clothes but she found herself an apartment and a job cleaning houses for wealthy families. She started working as many hours as she could to provide for herself and for her family.

She got by alright. She found a man to date and love. She thought he was a good man and she stayed with him for a while. The two fought as is common for any two people in a relationship. She was still fond of him though. The two wound up having a baby together. A daughter, my older sister.

My mother couldn't be happier. She was soon ready to bring her new born baby girl home. The man saw my mother in front of the hospital as he drove up to give her a ride. She got in and he saw the baby and I guess a fear must've taken over him. Can you magine that, bein' afraid of a tiny, little, pink, and mushy-faced girl maybe two days old?

He was. He grabbed that mushy-faced little girl and dropped her out of the car on to the sidewalk. He told my mother that he would not have anything to do with a baby. She didn't give a damn about him after that. She left the car to pick up her baby girl and make a better life for themselves as he drove away.

They were already better off without him in their lives.

By now, my aunt had come to America and the two sisters moved in together. They lived in Houston for a while and my sister grew up fairly happy. She would go along with our mother to clean the wealthy family's home and get to enjoy a few luxuries even if only for a few hours.

Now that my mother only had one home to clean she was left responsible for the repairs as well. Plumber's were called in to fix a leak under a sink. Well, one of these plumber's had an eye for beauty. He spotted it as my mother was bent over under the sink to try and show him where the leak was. (Romantic, right?)

This plumber wound up leavin' a tool behind on purpose so he'd have an excuse to go back and talk to the pretty house keeper. She called the plumbing company and the plumber went back. He got his tool back and then asked for a phone number in some clever way I'm sure. (The man's always got sumthin' clever to say.)

He wasn't much of anythin' at the time really. He was livin' with my uncle and his wife at the time. He didn't have any money. He was highly depressed and as I understand it somewhat suicidal. He spent his whole life up until then makin' what he saw as mistakes. He was always fightin', always drunk, he had two kids he could never see, and his ex-wives hated him. He was goin' on thirty years and didn't see much reason to keep goin'.

But he thought she was pretty and it gave him a little hope when he got her phone number. He would call and ask out my mother, she would say no. She'd been hurt, and she knew a enough about him to know he was trouble. She didn't need any more of that for her or her daughter.

One day my mother was stuck out in the rain somewhere. She tried callin' her sister but there was no answer. (There was a time before cell phones boys and girls, I know that sounds like a horror movie now but back then they had pay phones and land lines.) She had no one else to call...except that plumber who had had enough of bein' turned down by her at this point. She called his plumbing company and they relayed the message through his C.B. radio. (That's just ancient technology, kids.) Since, he was in the area and off duty he went to pick her up. He gave her a ride home and asked her out one more time. She said yes.

They fell in love, got married, and had a baby. (Me, of course.) My father vowed to do everything he could to make all of our lives better and make this marriage work. He adopted my sister and has always treated her as his own. My parents raised me to be a good man. He opened up a plumbing business with my mother supporting him. She worked answering his phone and taking messages and was still cleaning that wealthy family's home for extra money.

His promise to her during this finincially troubling time was "If you hold the ladder, Baby, I'll climb it to the top." And together they did. She's been his support. He's been her protector.

My father told me that my mother is responsible for saving his life. That she was the one that made him believe in a life worth livin'. He said to me with tears in his eyes that if anything ever happened to that woman he loved, that he would get in that truck of his and drive off never to be seen again. He said he couldn't have done anything without her and wouldn't be able to if he lost her.

My mother's harsh life has made her a hard woman to live with. It's also made her strong, tough, and street smart. She has had to struggle all her life to make life better for the ones she loves. She struggles for me, because she loves me.

My mother gets on my nerves most days but I'm glad I get to see her everyday and that she cares about me like she does. I love her very much.