Ohhhh hello, blog. Funny how you just hang out here waiting for me while I go busily about my life in the real world. You knows, interactions that don't involve a tweet, a status update or a g-chat...
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
My mom was here this week - WEEK - and it was just lovely. It was an exceedingly well-timed visit, as Matt was right into the thick of trauma surgery month and has basically just been sleeping and working, sleeping and working, lather, rinse, repeat. It was nice to have company and break up a long month where I was starting to hold philosophical discussion with my pooch, and I know Mom always feels like she's stepping on our toes to visit (YOU AREN'T) so I think it was easy for her knowing Matt was MIA and she wasn't imposing on our quality time together, budding new marriage and all. (2 years, in 2 weeks, yall!)
We went for walks (lots of walks), we drank lattes (lots of lattes), we drank wine (even more wine), and we talked and talked and talked and talked. My aunt left me a message on my fbook wall asking if her kids will ever MISS her as I posted that I lamented my mother turning left to go north on 52 as I turned right to go south (and go to werk. Meh.) It made me ponder the direction our relationship has turned in, and how it has grown and changed from teenager-hood to semi-adulthood.
I mean, I always LIKED my mom (I mean, loved, duh, but I mean like-like-as-a-person, yanoo?) We never really went through that like, moooommmmmmmm get out of my roooooom stage in high school and I think pretty much immediately upon leaving the nest, I pretty quickly became a thrice-to-cuatro times a week phone caller. This was even when long distance rates still existed! Lurve, right? Well, I have to confess that probably for a good chunk of college I used my mom as my own personal sounding board. I can't recall that I ever asked her about her day, her job, her worries, her passions, her life.
I guess that's what being a mom and a kid is all about - the balance is never fully equalized, and I suppose that's how it's supposed to be. This morning I was getting ready for work, and my mom noticed my hem needed sewing. As I sat in my undies eating my oatmeal while my mom stitched my skirt back together, I wondered if I was 27 or 7. (Note: semi-adulthood.) But I didn't care. Taking care of me (all her kids, nay everyone) is what makes my mom the person she is.
But the joy I've discovered in having a friendship with her - wanting to know who she IS, not just as a mom, has really brought a new amazing aspect to our relationship. I looked as forward to her visit as I would a week with one of my best girl friends. Maybe even more, because I love mah girls but none have ever stocked my fridge when they visit. Come to think of it, they usually empty ... well, never mind.
As much as I still went about my life while she was here - went to work, walked the dog, wiped pee out of the crate, grilled chicken, went running, tweeted, ya know, the basics of life - it felt like a vacation to come home from work every day and just hang out with one of my favorite people. Although I always loved being with my mom, I can see now it was much more selfish in my teen/early 20s - I loved being with my mom because my mom was already there to be with me. To shift things just every so slightly has really just been one of the most wonderful things in my life.
So to my aunt, whose children right now might be door-slammers, or busy themselves with texting when you're driving them all over the g.forsaken town.... will they come to miss you? Yes, immensely. The secret is they already do, it just takes a few tries of turning your white load pink or figuring out how to cook a pork chop on your own before the gratitude for what you did for them for 18 (erm, 27) years really whaps them upside the head. And once they start realizing that you made pork chops (or spaghetti, or hamburgers, or tuna rice casserole) for five people EVERY SINGLE DAY for LOTS and LOTS of years... then they start wondering how you did it.
And that's when they start wondering who you are.
Thanks for coming Mom... safe travels!
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