Back in the day, when I was in high school, I had a friend who was always talking about her grandmother, a heavyset black lady who didn’t put up with any crap. Everyone called her “Big Ma”. Let me tell you something…you don’t mess with a lady named “Big Ma”. You just don’t.
However, Big Ma was a good listener, not just a hard ass disciplinarian. When you had a problem, you could go to Big Ma and she would listen to you and she would say, “Girrrrl, Mama knows. Mama knows.” And when she was REALLY listening, she would drop the “s” at the end of “know” and she would just say “Mama KNOW, girl, Mama KNOW.” And when she was listening even more, she would close her eyes, shake her head back and forth, and just say continually, “Mamaknowmamknowmamaknow…” When she was upset about the pain you were in, she’d say, “GIRL! mm-MM! Mama know…”
For some reason -and the people in my life who really know me can tell you this- when I start joking around, I sometimes turn into Big Ma. I am a jovial, fun loving, sympathetic, hard ass, big talkin, carefully listening black grandmother who sounds JUST like Big Ma and says “mama know” every five minutes. Some people find it uproariously funny. Others quietly wish that I would die.
Seriously though this doesn’t happen all the time. sigh. I know I’m not really Big Ma. I am all about being authentically me.
You can just consider the Big Ma mamadrama an occasional treat
I ain’t yo mama, and I don’t know it all, but I’m in the trenches like you are: sweatin it out and praying for mercy through the laughter, the tears, the ups and the downs.
Yup. Mama know.