2011 Issue - Santa Fe Community College

The Day I Lost My Mother
at Ross Dress for Less
by Jane Tokunaga
I lost my seventy–nine year old mother in Ross Dress For Less, somewhere
between the Knits and the Active Wear. I had spent most of my
adult life avoiding or side-stepping her critical eye. Quick to judge anyone
who did not measure up to her standards, she had a sharp tongue
and lately she had dropped the inner censor; you know, the little person
inside each one of us that says, You can’t say that. That will hurt them. Or
Don’t say that, that could get you killed. Also gone was that little person
who said, Don’t put your feet up on the couch; it’s not polite. Well, now I
hadn’t just avoided her, I had lost her. At Ross Dress For Less.
She and my father had arrived in Santa Fe in the heat of August to
cool off from Arizona. That was their story. I suspected my 85 year old
father needed a break. But he wasn’t willing to tell me why just yet.
When they arrived I saw the change in my mother. Even though he
watched her every move, my father could not compensate for her
increasingly bizarre behavior.
“What’s wrong with Mom” I finally cornered him alone.
“Nothing. She’s just a little forgetful.” He patted my hand.
Nothing, huh I decided to invoke the shopping test. If we could go
shopping together and emerge with an outfit that met her approval, then
I would know she was alright, even if I was a little damaged from her
fashion sense.
The De Vargas Center in Santa Fe isn’t very big as far as malls go. So
it seemed a safe choice. At Ross Dress For Less we worked our way up
and down the aisles. Somewhere along the way, I got distracted by a pair
of jeans. When I looked up my mother was gone. No problem, I thought;
she’s just looking down another aisle. I casually draped the jeans over my
arms and headed up the aisle and down the next, and the next and the
next. Where was she I started calling out, “Mom,” then a little louder,
“Mom,” and then just started yelling, “MOM, MOM!”
Enlisting the help of anyone who would listen, I asked them to keep
128 Santa Fe Literary Review