Conversation with My Mother on Halloween

My Mother: So how did Brautigan enjoy the Halloween festival?

Me: He enjoyed it. I’m just glad we made it home alive.

My Mother: What kind of parade did you take him to??

Me: I’m not talking about the parade, Mother. Let's just say we had a few incidents.

My Mother: What kind of incidents?

Me: Well, it started on our way there, when a black cat leapt out of the brush and ran right in front of the car.

My Mother: Did you hit it?

Me: No. But it was as if he'd strategized the whole thing.

My Mother: Well, you know, that’s a good omen.

Me: That’s what Chris said, but I’m not sure I buy it.

My Mother: Of course you wouldn't.

Me: But that’s not all. Then, we went to the grocery store and guess who we parked next to?

My Mother: Who.

Me: The coroner.

My Mother: (laughs.) Oh, so what. Even coroners have to eat.

Me: But it gets worse. Then, we were driving home on the Northway and Chris says, “Oh my god, Jess, look!” and right next to us, was the coroner again.

My Mother: (laughing)

Me: It’s not funny. And all this on Halloween.

My Mother: Well, so what. Be glad you weren't in it.

Me: Poo, poo, poo!

My Mother: You’re like a grandmother already, Jessica, you and your trilogy.

Me: I can’t help it. I’ve become very superstitious since I gave birth.

My Mother: Well, I’ll tell you something.

Me: What.

My Mother: Did you know I hate seeing dead birds?

Me: No, I did not.

My Mother: Well, I do. For me, dead birds are a bad omen. And the other day, right in front of my door as I was leaving for St. Vincent DePaul’s, was an injured mourning bird. Well, I looked up to heaven ‘cause really, I just don’t do birds, and on the third ‘fuck me’, I swear to god, Jessica, this bird with a broken wing started shuddering and flapping and right before my eyes, he flew away, and I yelled at the top of my lungs, Praise Jesus!!!

Me: Wow, Mother, that’s a miracle! You healed him!

My Mother: I’d like to think so. Either that, or he very badly wanted to get away from me. But the point of my telling you this, is to reiterate what I’ve always told you: Kane women don't accept negatives. Kane women always turn negatives into positives. And Kane women, Jessica, do not sit around wasting brain power with poo, poo, poos. So cut it out.

Me: Very Well.

My Mother: I’ll talk with you tomorrow, Dear.

Me: I love you.

My Mother: Love you too.

-JLK