About a Glass

My mother loved beer. She never wanted to drink a whole bottle all at once; that wasn't ladylike. Instead, she wanted to drink it out of a little fancy glass.

Whenever I came home to see my mom, I would call to ask her what I needed to pick up on the way. Once, we had the now-classic conversation:

Sally: What do you need?

Mom: [Various groceries]

Sally: Anything else?

Mom: Cigarettes. We're out of cigarettes.

Sally: Okay. Got it.

Mom: Hold on. [confers with Dad off-phone] Your dad says you should buy some lottery tickets. He thinks you're lucky.

Sally: Has he met me? Okay, lottery tickets. Got it.

Mom: Oh, and beer. We don't have any beer, so get some.

Sally: Okay. So: cigarettes, lottery tickets, and beer. Would you like me to get you some hookers, too, Mom?

Mom: No, I think we're all full up here.

Anyhoo, I'd buy her the beer of her choice, and then she would drink a 6-pack, measured out in fancy little glasses.

When I brought Curtis home for the first time, she was delighted to have a partner in her beer-drinking; I'm not a beer fan, so I never wanted to share beer with her. Aunt Connie was a wine drinker. Dad would sometimes indulge her, but he had died a year and a half earlier.

Curtis, on the other hand, was happy to. This was how they bonded.

Scene: Curtis and I arrive at my mother's house. We bring up all of our luggage, and Mom enthusiastically tells me how hot he is. Curtis is unpacking the groceries, and he asks if I want a glass of wine, and he asks Mom if she wants anything to drink.


Mom: What are you having?


Curtis: I'm having beer. Sally can have her stupid wine.


Mom: How about we split one?


Curtis: Sure!


And she shows him the little glass she drinks beer out of, the little fancy one.

And every time Curtis and I went to see her, they split beers, Curtis drinking out of the bottle, Mom drinking out of the little fancy glass. She tended to like lighter, gentler beers: lagers and pilsners. 

Mom and Curtis bonded, and I often suspected she liked him more than she liked me. When she was in and out of the hospital over the course of a year and a half, he went with me every time to see her.

And when she died in 2009, and we cleaned out her house, he made sure he took one thing.

Here's to you, Murm. Drinking a glass of  Tilted Smile Imperial Pilsner in your memory. We love you. We miss you every day.