Telling MoMo

There are many different nicknames for a grandmother. Granny, Gran, Me-Maw, Nana, Noni,  Gram, GG, and the list goes on.  For my fiancee, the nickname of choice for hers is MoMo pronounced phonetically as MawMaw.

The first time I met MoMo, was my first time in New Orleans. I was excited to see where Candice grew up. The neighborhood in the mostly middle class black area of Gentilly, in the house, that even though damaged by Katrina, was rebuilt and still stood strong on the corner of  the intersection of two tree-lined streets.

The first time I met MoMo's acquaintance she opened the door and we were greeted by a small framed Creole woman with pale blue eyes, a warm smile, and a "Hello Baby!" Said with a strong New Orleans drawl-phonetically pronounced- "Hello Byeh-be!" Her two dogs and two cats greeted us as well and we all squeezed on the couch as an episode of Say Yes to the Dress became the background noise of our introductory conversation. In hind sight, that detail is  pretty ironic, but at the time I was less intrigued by what MoMo was watching and more intrigued by what she was cooking. MoMo always had something ready for you to eat when you came over. Candice had warned me about it but to actually smell the yumminess coming from the kitchen was an entirely different story. The first thing I ever ate at MoMo's was smothered chicken in brown gravy, rice, and yellow corn. It may seem simple, but it was one of the many times in life I was reminded that things aren't always as they seem. Her smothered chicken, veggie soup, pork chops with a side of mac and cheese, and lasagna, quickly became the home cooked dishes I looked forward to having every time I would visit New Orleans with Candice- and for some reason MoMo took a  liking to me which meant that she always wanted to feed me as well.   As far as she knew Candice and I were good friends that went way back. She never really asked us questions about our friendship-but was always intrigued by stories of my travels as I was influx with my career at the time and was traveling between several jobs and states. MoMo was also slightly agoraphobic and didn't get outside much. She went to the grocery store, church, and occasionally to the vet to take her pets for their check-ups-but that was about the extent of her adventures outside of the house. In fact, a lot of what she enjoyed talking about were the unfortunate tragedies that befell innocent civilians she would hear about on the morning news. So and so was kidnapped-so and so was caught up in a drive by-so and so got arrested for drugs, so and so got robbed in the French Quarter-and being that I too am intrigued by a series of unfortunate events, we tended to bond over the sadness of others' misfortunes.  I didn't care how we bonded, I just cared that we did.

This is why, when Candice informed me that she was going to tell MoMo we had gotten engaged, my first response was not, "oh that's so wonderful and sweet honey, but more like, umm...really, are you sure that's the best idea?" You see, I really valued the connection MoMo and I shared. After all, both my grandmothers who I had been close to growing up had passed some years ago and I discovered that I missed the words of wisdom and home cooked meals and reassuring hugs that can only really come from a grandmother. But Candice was adamant. MoMo was her heart, the woman that had helped raise her, and she wanted her to know that I was not just a good friend she spent a  lot of time with, but that I was also her heart, a woman who she loved and was choosing to spend her life with and was proud of. Well, when u put it that way...after I wiped the tears away and hugged Candice, I told her I would support her in any way she needed me to in this endeavor. "Ok, she said, "How about coming with me to New Orleans and being there when I tell MoMo?' GULP. Ummm...

So... about two weeks after the proposal, we are on a plane together to New Orleans and I feel my underarms beginning to sweat already and we hadn't even taken off yet. Two feelings were being had-one: my fiancee is the bravest and sweetest woman ever and everything will be fine, and two: my fiancee is the craziest woman ever and I am terrified of what's to come. We land in New Orleans and pretty much go straight to MoMo's house. I tried to stall by suggesting we go get a snowball, or a po-boy, but Candice was on a mission and reminded me that MoMo probably had food ready for us. Good point. Shit.

We pull up, and both of us are sweating profusely. Candice lets me know that she has no idea what she is going to say or how she is going to say it. I remind myself that I need to be strong for her in this moment. This is HER moment and I am here to be supportive and proud and do whatever she needs me to do or not do. I think in hindsight I was feeling more protective of her feelings than anything else. I knew how much MoMo meant to her and I couldn't bare the thought of her putting herself out there only to be spurned or rejected by the person she loved most.

The door opened, and MoMo's pale blue eyes narrowed as she grinned at us. Crawfish were on the table ready to be broken into and there was cake for dessert. This was starting off well. The usual small talk about the weather and catching up ensued, followed by a story of woe, taken from the headlines of the morning news about a woman who abandoned her baby in a car, and a female police officer who had been killed on her first day on duty. As we shook our heads at the tragedy and commiserated about the dangers of New Orleans and the world in general, Candice still bubbling over with nervous energy, gets up from the table and begins scrubbing at some dirty dishes. It is in this moment that with a clear and confident voice she says, "so MoMo, we actually came her to tell you some big news-Zina is getting married!" Gulp. What? What am I supposed to do with that? It's like throwing someone a line without a hook. But I'm along for the ride so here we go. MoMo looks to me, "Oh, yeah baby? So when's the weddin?" Gulp. When? Do I say to who? No, that's Candice's job. She asked me when. Stick to the script. "Um, we are looking at February or October of 2017." Awkward silence for about two minutes which seems like ten. Then. Candice: "Do you have any idea who Zina might be marrying?" MoMo: "Well, how would I know?" Another awkward pause for about 60 seconds that feels like an hour. Then MoMo: "I don't know." She looks to Candice.  MoMo: "Is it you?" SCREEEEEETCH! She knows! Candice nods: "Yes MoMo. She's getting married to me. I proposed and she said yes." Pause. Pause. Silence.  More silence. And then, what can only be described as a low murmur; almost a humming sound can be heard coming from MoMo -like a church song hum-"mmmmmmmm." It was as if she was having a brief moment with God and then that was it-subject was changed back to the weather- as Candice finished the dishes. After about 5 minutes MoMo invites us to come back in the morning for eggs and grits.  Wow.

Upon me asking Candice how she thought it went when we left: "Inviting us for breakfast was her way of getting things back to normal. Because she loves us both she is probably going to act like the conversation never happened so that she can continue to love us. I guess denial is better than the alternative."

The next day as we are waiting at the airport to catch our flight back, Candice calls MoMo.  MoMo: "So did ya tell ya Uncle Glen ya gettin' married? Or you want me to tell 'em?" Candice smiles from ear to ear. I guess MoMo wasn't in denial after all.