Sunday, May 13, 2012

The Woman from Whose Womb I Woke

As each great nation from the dawn of time until our current age has been dominated by a leader with a platform of governance, the Cannon household has been gloriously ruled over by Nancy since its formation in the early 1970's. With the iron fist of motherhood, Nan P. Can indoctrinated her children with three truths: Neil Diamond is our family's favorite Jew, the Cannon family only watches Mormon church films and Charlton Heston films on Sunday, and that her choice of punishment involves a pair of very stiff slippers.

The aforementioned slippers only come off when one of the angels known as children are particularly uncouth.  One such occasion presented itself on a cloudy Sabbath evening of my youth. An untimely cheeky comment that my mother's aging ears interpreted as coming out of my saintly mouth, stirred the brimstone within her warm eyes. I knew the line had been crossed. My time had come.
I bolted towards the staircase in hopes of escaping the wrath of the Slipper.  Slow motion filming overtook my young body as my head circled around to check on the status of my forbearer's castigation. With well hidden agility and secreted elasticity, the foot flexed, the knee bent and the slipper in question found the familiar warmth of my mom's hand.  I had safely reached the first stair as the wooden sole of the Slipper felt the gentle fingers of my matron aiming it at my head.

With immaculate precision, the woman from whose womb I woke hurled the Slipper from a horizontal position. Three stairs down the case was the fleeting progress of my body when the Slipper passed through the lathed banister. A triumphant Slipper clashed with the side of my head; a better strike could not have been orchestrated by President Obama himself.

The Slipper sat motionless next to me as I lay prostrate on the linoleum.  The simple words, "Are you okay?" came from the sofa where the victorious matriarch was comfortably arranged. Such affection, kindness and love has never been crooned out of the lips of Neil Diamond.  Charlton Heston's Oscar award winning performance pales in comparison to the epic devotion that my mother has shown me and each of her children.  I will forever be in debt to this woman for her unfathomable loyalty, steadfast example and for being the architect of my childhood.  I love you mom.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oh Leelee, I know your mother: She is not capable of hurting a fly! What a beautiful sentiment at the end though. So incredible to read your writing and experience you as an adult.

-J

Lee Cannon said...

She denies that the brutality of this event is exaggerated, but I have the scar to prove it!

Rebecca said...

Beautifully written. One can only hope I will be such a mother. :)

Kandis said...

Fantastic! I had a difficult time reading past your mothers incredibly accurate shot because I was laughing so hard! But I made it through, and as I suspected, your mother did a lot right! :)

Aimee & Brennen Fuller said...

Your mother was talking about his particular blog post yesterday during Relief Society and she said your family's most favorite Jew is "Jesus Christ." Oh Nancy, that's why we love ya.

Lee Cannon said...

HAHA! I love that, Aimee! I am glad that she clarified this ;)

-blessed holy socks, the non-perishable-zealot said...

Awe.some. You rock, dude. Meet me Upstairs.

carolsbarrelsof stuff said...

Sweet memories:)