LAUGHTER AND ORANGE FLAVORED GIN

I remember telling my Mom jokes-frequently racy ones and she would laugh,a kind of odd giggle/ guffaw and admonish me with "oh Robbie-you're horrible"!Still giggling,but feigning that prim British upbringing that frowned on vulgarity of any sort,but,secretly found it enormously funny.It is important to note that there were 2 people who called me Robbie ever in my life,my Mom and my friend Lisa in Colorado...no one else does it.Period.There are some that insist on calling me Robert,and I can live with that...but Robbie?Reserved to my Mom and Lisa.
I heard that laugh yesterday,out of the blue.It just popped into my head for no reason.But there it was,as clear as day,as if she were in the room with me.My Mom died in 1992.
I remember the end clearly.I had driven her to a platelet transfusion in the morning,around lunch time the clinic called and summoned me,saying she had taken a turn for the worse and needed to be transported to hospital.Did I want to come and get her or have her transported by ambulance?
Duh...I came and got her.
They had given her some kind of pain med that completely fucked her up,and on the way to the hospital she told me a story about a time when she and a fellow nursing student got wasted on orange flavored gin,consumed in tea cups and how she hadn't felt like that since-until now.and she was laughing.A day and a half later she was gone.
And while I haven't heard that laugh in 16 years,I heard it yesterday.Loud and clear.And despite all the conflict and havoc in our family,there was always that laugh that reminded me that it was ok after all.
I tried to be a good son.I guess I was,after all.