(no subject)
Mommy,
I'm not ready. I know I'm 31 and that's way past the age of adulthood... but we both know that's not me. I have phobias and anxieties and issues that only you and Mel have ever tried to understand. I can't have a normal life. I can't do the world without you. I only managed to move to Colorado because you told me I'd always have a home to go back to. That you'd always be there when I needed you. The three phone calls we've missed so far are already killing me. I have so much to tell you and laugh about and bitch about. I can't believe that all I talked about in the last phone call was a stupid TV show. I can't believe the last time I'll ever see you was at the airport waving goodbye. How am I going to do two more plane trips without knowing you're there at the other side?
I'm trying to do my best for Amy and dad. But I can't do the emotional support. I don't know what they're going to do but I'm the least able to help anyone. I feel so guilty already because I'm so not staying in Michigan. I volunteered for the bills and the taxes... but I don't have any idea how to do funerals and clean out houses. I don't know how I'm going to deal with Baci myself or how I can possibly get him to Colorado. I don't know how to live in a world where you're not here to call for help.
I know you waited until I had another family. A support system of my own. Someone who understood me, who'd stand by me. I know you wanted me to make this work, to live life known as something other than your daughter. I know you made sure I'd have some way to be all right.
But Mommy... I'm still not ready.
I'm not ready. I know I'm 31 and that's way past the age of adulthood... but we both know that's not me. I have phobias and anxieties and issues that only you and Mel have ever tried to understand. I can't have a normal life. I can't do the world without you. I only managed to move to Colorado because you told me I'd always have a home to go back to. That you'd always be there when I needed you. The three phone calls we've missed so far are already killing me. I have so much to tell you and laugh about and bitch about. I can't believe that all I talked about in the last phone call was a stupid TV show. I can't believe the last time I'll ever see you was at the airport waving goodbye. How am I going to do two more plane trips without knowing you're there at the other side?
I'm trying to do my best for Amy and dad. But I can't do the emotional support. I don't know what they're going to do but I'm the least able to help anyone. I feel so guilty already because I'm so not staying in Michigan. I volunteered for the bills and the taxes... but I don't have any idea how to do funerals and clean out houses. I don't know how I'm going to deal with Baci myself or how I can possibly get him to Colorado. I don't know how to live in a world where you're not here to call for help.
I know you waited until I had another family. A support system of my own. Someone who understood me, who'd stand by me. I know you wanted me to make this work, to live life known as something other than your daughter. I know you made sure I'd have some way to be all right.
But Mommy... I'm still not ready.