Mom Read Free Page A

would say, “Oh, we just had a wonderful day today.” I loved that, I loved that. I miss that.
    Valerie Jo: I loved that, too. My mom would speak in English, and your mom would speak in Amharic, and then they’d laugh and throw their hands up. During that first visit, I said, “Mom, I don’t understand how this is working.” She said, “Oh, honey, I know Zodie’s telling me about when Hagos was a boy, and I’m telling her about all the funny things you did. We know we’re talking about how much we love our kids.” They came to love each other.
    Sometimes it was frustrating for me, because I would want so much to explain to your mom why something had happened or to ask more about her life. As she stayed with us, she did develop English to a certain extent so we could have superficial conversations, but we couldn’t get into very many details.
    We did fine in the kitchen, though. That’s where I learned the most Amharic, because she taught me how to cook wonderful food, and as we would cook she would identify the names of the different vegetables and so forth. She had a wonderful way of communicating with me. Like one time her neck hurt and I gave her a neck massage, and she picked up my hand and kissed it. Your mom brought tears to my eyes a lot, because she was so tender and so loving, and that really came through every day of her life.
    I think part of what’s made our life together so beautiful is the influence that our moms have on us.
    Hagos: I feel the same way. We’ve been married for over twenty-two years. Mixing our two cultures together, we had our problems, but I think our moms helped us to get over that. I know your mom loved me because she always supported me when we had any issues, and my mom was always on your side. I remember if we argued about anything, my mom used to tell you, “He’s a stone head,” meaning that I’m a hardheaded person, and then she’d just laugh.
    Valerie Jo: I know—she would take my side. And if you and I would get upset and I’d say anything to my mom about it on the phone, she would always say, “He’s a wise man, honey. You need to listen to what he has to say.” She always would say that, and she was right. That was really a smart thing for them to do, wasn’t it? I mean, when I think about it, if you want to help keep things in balance, it’s better to take the side of the person that is not your blood relative.
    But your mom loved everybody—she was so nonjudgmental about people. I mean, whoever walked through the door, your mom was there to greet them, and she was so warm and loving with everybody, no matter what walk of life they came from. She was so gracious.
    Hagos: You know, my mom was born and lived all her life in Ethiopia, and she thought she was probably going to die there. She was born in Addis Ababa and buried in Charlotte, North Carolina. To me that seems just unreal.
    Recorded in Charlotte, North Carolina, on February 9, 2008.

JODY HOUSTON, 57 interviews her daughter, BARBARA COOPER, 30
    Jody Houston: You were born prematurely. The doctor came into the recovery room, and he told me that your first twenty-four hours would be very touch and go. He didn’t know if you were going to make it. I couldn’t wait to get into the nursery to see you. You looked like a little bird that had fallen out of the nest.You were just so fragile and looked like you needed to grow your feathers.
    When you were about three months old, they sent us to Texas Children’s Hospital in Houston. We were told that you had progeria and that it was a very grave situation, and to take you home and enjoy you—and that’s what I’ve done for thirty years. They said that they would love to see you when you were a year old. When you were eighteen months old, I decided I’d better call them. They couldn’t believe that you were still alive.
    Barbara Cooper: Progeria is a genetic, premature-aging disorder. It’s a rapid aging process: you skip puberty and everything