Just once I wish my mom would complain.

I know I should be careful what I wish for, but I'd really like my mother be a little more vocal when something's bothering her.

Her favorite TV channel coming in a little fuzzy? Tell me all about it. Her can of Coke falls a little flat? I want to know. The cashier bags her bread wrong and squishes it? Lay it on me, Mom.

Seriously, even the smallest of things I wouldn't mind her complaining about. Because then I'd know about the big things, too. Like recently when she became so ill her body began shutting down.

Last week my favorite woman in the world gave our family quite a scare. She'd been feeling what she calls "under the weather" for nearly a week. It turns out "the weather" weighed about three tons and was sitting squarely over her abdomen, shutting down organ systems and putting her life in jeopardy.

One week, two surgeries, two recuperating kidneys and multiple intravenous lines later, she's well on her way to her previously healthy self. And our family couldn't be happier.

But we want her to complain. About something. Anything.

Even in her hospital room, she doesn't want to be a bother. If she's thirsty, she simply waits for a nurse to appear rather than use the call button attached to her bed. She ran out of Chapstick while in her hospital bed. She said nothing. But I noticed and offered to replace it. "That would be fine," she said through chapped lips as I placed a new one on her bed tray.

My mom is a model patient for sure. She's cheerful to hospital staff and does what's asked of her. A horse pill big enough to clog a drain pipe? "I can do it," she said before choking it back with a wince.

"Thank you," she said to the nurse who'd given it to her.

Thank you?! Mom, you nearly needed the Heimlich!

Whatever her discomfort, she's never short on thank yous to the doctors and nurses who've spent more than a week poking and prodding her for her own good. The world could learn a thing or two from my mom about gratitude.

Folks of her generation were taught to be grateful and respectful. No whining, griping or bellyaching, even when your belly's aching. And that's one of the things that makes my mom such a gracious woman.

Still, just once I'd like to hear her lament about something. The economy, maybe. Or even the weather. But most importantly when she's feeling so far "under the weather."