Mother's birthday.

Today would have been Mom's 94th birthday. 

I loved my Mom, but when dealing with my mother, I often asked myself the question: "How did I get myself into this?"

A few years back, Mom had a problem with her roof. Her solution to the problem was to opine loudly in my presence: "Oh dear, the north roof needs needs to be re-shingled. It would be so nice if someone were to fix it for me." Then she would sigh loudly.

I hate roofing, so I held out for, oh, five whole seconds before I gave in. "Do you want me to take care of it?"

"Oh, would you dear? That would be so nice. When can you do it?"

"Next month."

"That's a long time away. How about next week?"

"Next week? Maybe I could..."

"When next week?"

I thought through my schedule. "Friday."

"Morning or afternoon?"

"Afternoon."

"Can you make it morning instead?"

So that Friday morning I was slugging it out on a hot roof. If any of you have ever done it, you know roofing is one hard, hot, lousy job. Plus I don't like heights. I would not have been up there for anyone other than Mom.

I finished and headed down, sweaty and filthy. "Thank you so much dear," she said. "I want to give you something in payment."

"You don't have to give me anything, mom." I just wanted to shower and leave.

"No dear, I have something I want to give you." She began rummaging through the domestic black hole that was her purse, until she found what she was searching for. "I want you to have this," she said, pressing it into my hands. "It's a ticket to the Angels of the Vatican exhibit at the AGO."

"But that's something you want to see. You should keep the ticket."

She became insistent. "No, I want you to have it." She wouldn't take it back.

"Thanks, Mom," I said reluctantly. "That's wonderful."

She continued. "As you can see on the ticket, the show ends tomorrow, so you'll have to go today. And since you're going today..." she began to rummage in her purse again, and pulled out a second ticket. "Would you mind taking me with you?"

As I looked down on my sweet, innocent mother, who was looking back at me with a blank expression that would be the envy of every card shark in Vegas, I knew I'd been had. She got me to fix her roof, and in payment she got me to take her to an art exhibit. I couldn't help but be impressed with her cunning. No wonder Dad never knew if he was coming or going.

She also got me to take her to other places. For some reason she never asked me straight out to take her somewhere, she just dropped hints. For example, the time she got me to take her to St Paul's basilica went like this: "Oh, I've always wanted to go and see St. Paul's. I've been to nearly every other church in Toronto, but not that one. I've always hoped to see it before I die, and I'm not feeling too well these days. Sigh."

Don't give in, I told myself. Don't give..."Mom, would you like me to take you?"

"Oh no dear," she replied. "I don't want you to go out of your way just for me."

 Uh-huh, I thought. Wait for it.  5...4...3...2....

"But if you were to go there anyway," she said. "And you had room for me..."

So we went. It is a beautiful church. I became interested in its history and found some photos of the church as it had looked in the past, along with a few pictures of the original church to show her. "Thanks dear," she said. "Oh look, there's the paintings on the ceiling. I wanted to have a look at them, but I wasn't feeling well the day we went, and I couldn't look up without feeling dizzy. sigh."

Here we go, I thought. Don't say it, don't say... "Mom, do you want to go on another trip to the basilica?"

"Oh, I don't want to be a bother...."

5...4...3...2...

"...But if we were to go, could I bring a friend?"

"Sure," I said.

"How about two? And, while we're at it, could we also go to..."

Mother knew I was a sucker. The same tactic had me driving her to Montreal- twice- to see Notre Dame there. I had been there first, and was showing her pictures of it.

"I've always wanted to see it," she said, looking down. "Ever since I saw an article back in the '40's in Time, but it was never open whenever I went to Montreal. Sigh."

Don't say it. "Mother, would you like me to take you?"

"Oh no, dear. I wouldn't want to be a bother..."

5...4...3...2...

".. but if you were going anyway, and you had room in your car...."

Montreal. Twice.

I wish she were still around to sucker me again.