Mami in Spanish and mommy in English are pronounced the same. They both mean Mom but the similarities end there. An 51 year old non-Hispanic man will call his mother mommy for maybe the first 7 or 8 years of his life. A Puerto Rican man will call his mother Mami till the day he dies. Mami in Spanish carries a deeper meaning,The only comparison I can think of is in scripture where Paul talks about
receiving the Spirit of Sonship and now being able to cry Abba Father. I think all Hispanic men have this Mami thing. We're all momma's boys.
When I was 10 I was hit by a car. As I lay there in the middle of the street in a semi-conscience state, I was calling for my Mami. A few of my classmates witnessed the accident. A few weeks later when I returned to school, the kids gave me the hardest time for calling out for my mommy. I was terribly embarrassed but they didn't understand that I was calling for Mami and not my mommy. Big difference.
She left Puerto Rico when she was 16 to live with an aunt in New York city. She made her way to Philadelphia where she met Pop. By the way, Pop is short for Papi which is pronounced Poppy. When Lisa started to talk she called me Papi. It made me feel special. It's similar to Mami in sentiment but that's another blog entry.
Anyway, they married a short time later and I began my pilgrimage the year after. When I was elementary school age, I remember my friends making comments on how young and pretty my mom was. That always made me feel good. When I was nine my mom was only 27. Most of my friend's moms were already well into their thirties.
Mami use to sing all the time around the house. My friends thought that was cool too. So did I. She's always been a worker too. When she retired a few years ago, it was a well deserved break. For many years she worked the 3-midnight shift so she could be with us during the day. During the summer we would stay up and wait for her to come home. Sometimes we'd catch a late movie. We loved the classics like Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte and Imitation of Life. During the summer we all were also heavily involved in Little League. She would take her lunch hour to watch our games.
She was instrumental in supporting me in the two major vocations I choose. When I started getting interested in photography she bought me my first light meter. The instrument was essential in me learning photographic lighting. When I started getting interested in computers she ran out and purchased a Mac for me.
One more story. When I was 11 or so I had a big fight with her. I ran into my room, pulled out a piece of paper and wrote in big letters "Nobody loves me. Especially Mom."
She walked in a short time later and saw my homemade sign. She sat down next to me and wrapped her arms around me. I don't remember what she said but over the years I've come to see how wrong I was. I believe the closest thing to God's unconditional love is the love I continue to experience from my Mami.
I think we sometimes wait too long to express our love to friends and family.
It should happen in the midst of our pilgrimage, not at the end of it during a memorial service.
I love you Mami.
