“How many?” The hostess at the diner asks me.
“I’m waiting on a second.” The hostess leads me to an isolated booth in the back of the restaurant. She offers me coffee and I accept.
Nervously I look at my watch. I’ve been waiting for this reunion for 13 years, two months, and 18 days. But who’s counting?
I hear the front door of the diner swing open with a small bell. I crane my neck and look around to see…
“You’re here!” I say with tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. With a big hug… “Mom, I can’t believe I’m standing in front of you again in this life.”
“Ry-ry, I never left. I left my body but I never left you.”
“It’s too bad Dad couldn’t make it. Is he really playing on a Gregg Allman session today? I mean, they actually do that?”
“Are you kidding me? You want to hear who else is playing with them?” Mom asks as she sits down in front of me.
“Yeah, this I’ve got to hear!”
“Butch — Butch Trucks is playing drums. Rocco Prestia is playing bass–”
“No way!”
“Yep! Rocco on bass. You’re never gonna guess who’s playing guitar.”
“Duane?”
“Nope. Someone near and dear to you, my son. Jimmy Holliday!”
“Jimmy Holliday? How? I made him up.”
“You did? Could’ve fooled me. He’s a heck of a nice guy.”
“Wait one minute. You actually know Jimmy Holliday?”
“I introduced him to you, Ryan.”
“Wait…are you my Mom or are you God?” Mom leans back and lets out a hearty laugh. “I wish you’d have done that more when you were still in your body.”
“Me too, son. Me too.” The server takes both our breakfast orders. “Have you had the pancakes here?”
“They’re not bad. They aren’t thick like yours.”
“And I can’t believe you’re a coffee drinker now.”
“I have been for years. Since before you left.”
“Yeah, well…” Mom says.
After several silent moments…
“How was your flight?”
“C’mon Ryan, you’re doing this?”
“I’m making small talk. I’m playing the game like you taught me.”
“No you’re not. You’re bullshitting a bullshitter.”
“Yeah…I really need to give that up. This whole game playing thing.”
Mom and I sit and drink our coffee. And I’m finding myself in shock that I’m having breakfast with Mom.
“After he read your book, you want to know what Daddy said about you?”
“Which book?”
“Hello Again, the last one. He said to me ‘my damn! I created a monster.” Only as she said that, she sounded just like my Granddaddy. I keel over laughing.
“He didn’t create a monster. He just introduced me to my life’s purpose.”
“One of many life purposes, Ry. You know we’re all so terribly proud of you. The outgoing man you’ve become. The man who’s willing to stand in front of people and speak. The man who spoke so eloquently on the anniversary of me leaving my body. The man who’s writing so beautifully and inspirationally. We are all so terribly proud of you.” As she says this, I take off my glasses and wipe a tear from my eye. “You okay?”
“I wished I’d heard that more when you were still with us.”
“Ryan, I didn’t know who I was. I was so wrapped up in my own stuff that I didn’t let myself really get to know you. You know, past about 12 or so.”
“You’ve seen my therapy sessions, have you?”
“I never left.”
We eat in silence for a little while. I look at my watch — I’m due at work at 11. It’s 10:45.
“Mom, here’s something I’ve been dying to ask you. Why do you keep letting me doubt myself? Like that’s what you wanted me to be — self-doubting.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way. I really am. I’ve heard the stuff you’ve said about me in therapy.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing you’ve said that hasn’t been true. Or at least how you saw me and our relationship. I’m going to answer you but I want to ask you something. Remember that time you wanted to ride Frosty but she kicked you off?”
“I remember it well. I’ve still got the scar under my lip.”
“You wanted to get back on but I said no.”
“How could I forget?”
“I wish like hell I never did that. That did more to teach you to doubt yourself and doubt your gut than anything that’s ever happened to you and for you. I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t mean to instill this fear in you. I just didn’t want to see you get hurt. Ryan, I wish like hell you could see yourself as others see you. I wish like hell you could see yourself as I see you — then and now. You have no idea how special you are? This book you’re working on now — and how hard must this be for you to write — it’s going to save lives. It’s absolutely going to save people’s lives. And when they discover this book, your other two books are going to become big. You have no idea how special you are. Even if you never made another book or released another podcast, you’re changing the world. There’s a world-changing and life-changing love just waiting for you, son. Waiting for you to grab! It’s not a probability. It’s happening!”
“Mom, are you telling me–”
“Yes! I’m telling you that you’re done. You’re done selling yourself short. You’re done hiding your light. You’re done! You hear me? You’re done!”
“But what about not getting too big for my britches?” Mom starts laughing as I said that. “What’s funny?”
“Tell me when? Seriously, tell me when I EVER said that? If I ever did — and I don’t remember ever saying it — I wasn’t in my right mind. I was probably not even in my body. And I dang sure wasn’t sober if I did.” I take a sip of my coffee as I think about when she said ‘getting too big for my britches.’ “Well?”
“I’m thinking…”
“You’re thinking of something that never happened. Ryan, I’m going to say something to you that I wish I’d have said when I was still alive and in my body. Are you listening?”
“I’m having coffee with my dead Mom sitting across from me.”
“Are you listening?”
“Yeah I’m listening.”
“Stop using me as an excuse. Stop using what you think I said to you as an excuse to keep hiding your light and denying the world your greatness. You’re not one in a million. You are the only you that will ever exist in this form. You’re smarter than any ten people. You’re more talented. You’re funnier — when you’re not even trying. Dammit, you just are. And there’s nothing and no body who can stop you. The least of whom is your dead mother. Promise me you will stop using me as an excuse.”
“I will.”
“You will what?”
“I promise I’m no longer going to use you as an excuse.”
“Good. Cuz I will haunt you if you don’t.”
“Say, who’s body are you in right now?”
“Some secrets you’re not ready for yet.”
“Touche.”
“I gotta go. I want to see Ivy before she goes to work. Gimme a hug.”
We stand and I bring her into a warm and comforting hug.
“Thank you…” Mom starts walking out of the diner before her body dissipates in a cloud of purple smoke.
“Hey Ry-Ry…I never left.”
