Mom

My mother and I have not been close our whole lives.  It isn't until the past year that we've found peace.  There has always been some kind of weird behavior from my mother towards me that she has a hard time controlling.  She has admitted to it on and off through the past 10 years most recently about three months ago.  She has apologized to me again and again for "not being nice to me" and I know that a large part of it is that she feels that if she had loved me properly and treated me kindly I would not be in the position I am in now.

One of my earliest memories of my mother is when I was somewhere around 4 years old.  I was in the front yard playing while she was taking a nap on the couch in the living room.  This was the early '60s in a small town at a time when it was safe to let your kid do that.  Being curious, I observed a bee a little too closely as it went about it's business in the bushes and I got stung.  Crying, I ran into the house to my mother asking for solace and help. Instead I was told to go back outside and play.  Everything was fine.

I no longer experience emotional pain when I recall this.  With age comes acceptance plus my mother has apologized enough.  She is 79 and I don't want her to be awash in guilt.

The position I am in now is I am making 36% less money in Florida than I did in Baltimore. I live in a house where 95% of the windows are painted shut and the ones that I can open don't stay open unless there is something propped up keeping them that way.  There are termites and the bedroom carpeting, despite my vacuuming efforts, is a luxury spa for fleas.  Since last fall my landlord has promised he will tent the house.

The appliances were new in the '70s except for the microwave that my landlord replaced last year.
Since the old one was part of a stove/oven/microwave combo, the new one sits on a table in the kitchen.

Because I left my abusive alcoholic ex-husband who wouldn't allow the 40 some odd potential buyers into the house I used to own to view it to make a possible $40,000 profit, I have been in the foreclosure process and have been notified I owe a lot of money despite the auctioning off of the house that was a couple thousand short of the asking price.

Getting back to my mother.  I routinely call her on my drive home from work.  It keeps me awake after a long day,  the hour long drive seems shorter, and I can give her the time she wants.  As we were talking yesterday afternoon, Poppy's allergies came up which was followed by the subject of fleas and termites.  My mother with a voice choked with emotion said, "I can't believe a child of mine is living this way."  I told her it was okay and I wasn't ashamed to live where I do.  Of course I wish I was living somewhere nicer but in the end we all die and we can't take it with us.  Whatever we do in our present lives will end and some day we will be back and I hope the next life, having learned what I have in this life, will be cushier.

I have lived through cancer and decisions I made hoping they would patch-up emotional wounds.  I no longer raise my fists in response to fists being raised at me.  I can admit to imperfection without losing my sense of self.  I can cry without feeling less than.  I can feel weak or strong without guilt and/or the sense that I am letting someone down or carrying them.  The only expectations I aim to fulfill are my own; the ones I set for myself.

I love my mother and I accept her.  She is not going to change and she loves me with all of her heart as best she can.  I am going to enjoy and cherish her and sometimes grit my teeth because of her but I will do it until I don't have her anymore.

Rose and Jeff Continued

Rose turned her head to look at the bedside clock. It was 6:30. The dog had to be fed and let out. Dinner had to be made, too, but she didn't want to be out from under Jeff's arm. If felt heavy, strong, and good. She looked back up at the ceiling and as she indulged her memories she closed her eyes.

She was back at the kitchen table finishing off the toast with jam. Her mouth watered and she had to swallow. She opened her eyes again to survey the room and make sure of her surroundings. She should really get up and take care of the dog. Guilt got the best of her and she slipped out of Jeff's arms.

Bill sat up at the sound of Rose getting out of bed and stared at the doorknob willing it to turn and the door to open. Tada! “C'mon, Bill. Let's go out,” said Rose as she got down and gave Bill a hug around his soft furry neck. They walked down the hall together through the kitchen and out the door.

Bread Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Wednesday, April 7, 2010 at 4:14pm | Edit Note | Delete
While at work this morning I was listening to "Bread". I have this great 2-cd set of their music that has all of their best work included.

I had been left alone for a prolonged period of time, if one can define 10 minutes as prolonged, and realized that my surroundings were fading away. The thoughts, pictures, and feelings in my head became my present. Memories from my past were competing for attention now depending on which song was playing. Old feelings, ones from my teenage years, walked out of the darkness and stood in front of me. Smells, tidbits of conversations, places, people I used to know patiently took their turn. Suddenly I realized I had been daydreaming and that my heart rate had slowed and I was calm.

About ten years ago, a new Classic Rock radio station had started on the air. Part of their advertising was that they would be playing the real classic rock we all wanted to hear. The wait was over! I called them asking if they would play "Bread". The guy laughed at me and asked, "Who's that?" They didn't have "Bread", but how about bagel? Toast?

We had a summer home on 3rd Lake in Old Forge, NY. There were afternoons when I would take an inner tube out on the water and just be. I loved the rocking motion the waves caused. There was always a breeze so the sun beating down on me felt good. Plus, my feet, hands, and butt were in the water and that kept me cool, too. That kind of peace, that kind of quiet, that kind of calm is what I felt listening to "Bread" this morning.