Be Best...

My mother always saw the good in people. That's what everyone said. Especially at her funeral. Not that she saw the good in people at her funeral, people kept saying it at her funeral.

"Your mothers was such a lovely woman. She always saw the best in everyone."

They would emphasize everyone just to make sure I was aware they were speaking of me. I already knew. It was the way they'd check for their watches and wallets as they walked away. Like I would steal from them at my own mother's funeral. 

I was on my best behavior and I didn't try to correct them. My mother didn't see only the good or the best in people, it was almost the opposite. My mother saw exactly who people were and then encouraged them to be better. The more she pointed out your good attributes the more she was worried about your bad ones. 

She was an expert at noticing things. 

When I was a small child I was helping her bake a cake. We poured the batter into the cake pan and as I reached for the bowl to lick she told me that we still needed to scrape the sides to get all of that extra batter into the pan as well. I told her that the batter in the pans was enough. The batter still in the bowl was mine now. If that batter was supposed to go into the pan it should have gone, now it was mine. She laughed and scraped the bowl anyway. I got a beater to lick. It was fine, but it wasn't as much as I could have had, so I dipped the beater in the cake pan for a refill when I thought she wasn't looking. 

Later that night I overheard her talking to my father, "We will need to watch that girl. She is always looking for a way to get a little more."

My father laughed and said he thought that was a good attribute. Not to settle or get complacent. My mother said that he didn't understand. I was going to get a little more anyway that I could. 

It wasn't until years later that I realized she thought this was a bad thing. I was more inline with my father. There is nothing wrong with wanting more. To noticing who had more than they needed and helping myself to the extra. There was plenty of batter in their cake pans, why should I be satisfied with a beater?

But my mother never stopped emphasizing my good attributes. I was creative. I was persistent. I was smart. I never got caught. Okay, I might have added that last one, but it took creativity, intelligence and persistence to be good at what I did. 

As I greeted people at her funeral I would go down the list of their 'best' that my mother always emphasized. There was Reverend James who my mother would constantly tell how much she enjoyed his benediction. What he never really seemed to grasp is she was trying to tell him to get to it, his sermons were too long winded for her taste. 

The was Gerard Constance who she would tell how much she really enjoyed his flower garden. He took such care in his flowers that she knew it meant he was a nurturer. Which, of course, she was trying to encourage him to focus some of that nurturing on his children whom he neglected for the most part. 

Sally Ann Jones, who was such a great public speaker, she really should look into toastmasters. Stop gossiping, Sally Ann, it's a bad look.

Fred and Abigail who were so affectionate. Maybe they should try it with each other instead of everyone else on the block. 

They could never figure it out. My mother didn't see the best in everyone. She saw who they were and tried to encourage them to be better. And for the most part when people were around her they were their best versions. 

And so I was insulted when her mourners assumed I would steal from them at her funeral. I was better than that. 

They would never see it coming.