Desperate musings.... Flavor: Raw
So, you all may have noticed the slight hint of desperation the other day when I asked if there was anybody out there. On sunday I left the happy message that I was going to go spend a lovely day with my mom in Birmingham and go to the art show. While I was there I was going to let her pick out something she thought was lovely and buy it for her. So, I went and bought the sappy card (Which is somehting I don't think I've ever done.) and I was on my way.
When I got there, my sister, step grandmother, my aunt's mother Judy(whom I adore), and my stepdad were there. I was suprised to see SG and Judy there but that's allright. I haven't seen them in a while.
So we start walking around the fair and the first place we stop, my sister and mom end up talking to this lady about a rag throw rug for my sister's house and how Perfect it is and how great it goes with her walls. My sister is worried that her 4 kids are gonna tear it up. My sister at that point insults the artisan by asking her if it's gonna fall apart in the wash, and at that point the lady gets on her high, rug covered horse, and starts spouting off about her own virtue.
At that point I left the booth. About ten minutes later I wander about a 1/2 a row of shops back and finally find them.
At several points I try to get some lovely quality time with my mom, whom for whatever reason is taking all the interest in the world to my sister (sibling jealousy anyone?) who lives in the same damn town as them and has none for me. Nevermind the fact I drove 1/2 an hour in my bumper falling off, C-joint crunching, brakes squeeling, tough as nails little Honda to come see her and find them in a crowd of HUNDREDS of people thanks the the magic of Cell phones; but nevermind all that.
What it boils down to, no matter what I think of my mother the other 364 days of the year, I want to pay homage to her mother's day. The woman who carried me for 9 months, held me when I cried, and was proud of me when I succeeded (golf clap anyone?) I think; at least for one day; deserves some sense of honor for at the very least the physical pheat she accomplished (no matter how drugged up I suspect she was).
What ended up happening was nothing of the sort. I ended up, once again, feeling like I was on the outside of the crowd and waving good bye to them on the streets of Birmingham as they all quite literally drove off together into the sunset in their Jeep Grand Cherokee with heated leather seats.
My mother did make a half-assed attempt to invite me back to the house but I knew I would just get more angry because I wasted the gas and I'd have an even bigger headache because I hadn't eaten. At least I wrote a nicely ambiguously angry song about her on the way home which I can hope will some day make me millions so that later she can be put into an old folks residence that is all plush and pretty much forget about her. (She asked me once if I would take care of her when she was older. I told her it would depend on what was going on in my life at the time.)
I don't like feeling this way about my mom. We used to have a good relationship. I just realized that she has never made any real attempts to learn about the person I am. I think is scares her either because she doesn't understand it or she see's a part of herself in me that she doesn't like, or worse, supressed years ago. (Refer to May 8th)
I think there is a shift here...for once I am the one saying that I am dissappointed in you Mom. You are there for all the beautiful Kodak moments you created but life isn't that perfect. It's something that is beautiful and should be cherished for ALL of it's diversity. I am disappointed in you for not going to visit your grandchildren that live 3 miles away from you, whom I wish I could see all the time. I am dissapointed that you are supressing the wonderful person that is inside you that you have all but forgotten about, and I am disappointed that you would so easily cast aside the one thing that makes you a mom. Your daughters.
Better luck next time.
p.s. To all my dear friends who made it this far please know that this is a letter of strength and affirmation. I love my sister and we talk all the time. I love my friends whom are my deepest friends, and they've heard an earful too...and now you have. This is public notice. I have nothing to hide and nothing to fear. THis has not beaten me.
When I got there, my sister, step grandmother, my aunt's mother Judy(whom I adore), and my stepdad were there. I was suprised to see SG and Judy there but that's allright. I haven't seen them in a while.
So we start walking around the fair and the first place we stop, my sister and mom end up talking to this lady about a rag throw rug for my sister's house and how Perfect it is and how great it goes with her walls. My sister is worried that her 4 kids are gonna tear it up. My sister at that point insults the artisan by asking her if it's gonna fall apart in the wash, and at that point the lady gets on her high, rug covered horse, and starts spouting off about her own virtue.
At that point I left the booth. About ten minutes later I wander about a 1/2 a row of shops back and finally find them.
At several points I try to get some lovely quality time with my mom, whom for whatever reason is taking all the interest in the world to my sister (sibling jealousy anyone?) who lives in the same damn town as them and has none for me. Nevermind the fact I drove 1/2 an hour in my bumper falling off, C-joint crunching, brakes squeeling, tough as nails little Honda to come see her and find them in a crowd of HUNDREDS of people thanks the the magic of Cell phones; but nevermind all that.
What it boils down to, no matter what I think of my mother the other 364 days of the year, I want to pay homage to her mother's day. The woman who carried me for 9 months, held me when I cried, and was proud of me when I succeeded (golf clap anyone?) I think; at least for one day; deserves some sense of honor for at the very least the physical pheat she accomplished (no matter how drugged up I suspect she was).
What ended up happening was nothing of the sort. I ended up, once again, feeling like I was on the outside of the crowd and waving good bye to them on the streets of Birmingham as they all quite literally drove off together into the sunset in their Jeep Grand Cherokee with heated leather seats.
My mother did make a half-assed attempt to invite me back to the house but I knew I would just get more angry because I wasted the gas and I'd have an even bigger headache because I hadn't eaten. At least I wrote a nicely ambiguously angry song about her on the way home which I can hope will some day make me millions so that later she can be put into an old folks residence that is all plush and pretty much forget about her. (She asked me once if I would take care of her when she was older. I told her it would depend on what was going on in my life at the time.)
I don't like feeling this way about my mom. We used to have a good relationship. I just realized that she has never made any real attempts to learn about the person I am. I think is scares her either because she doesn't understand it or she see's a part of herself in me that she doesn't like, or worse, supressed years ago. (Refer to May 8th)
I think there is a shift here...for once I am the one saying that I am dissappointed in you Mom. You are there for all the beautiful Kodak moments you created but life isn't that perfect. It's something that is beautiful and should be cherished for ALL of it's diversity. I am disappointed in you for not going to visit your grandchildren that live 3 miles away from you, whom I wish I could see all the time. I am dissapointed that you are supressing the wonderful person that is inside you that you have all but forgotten about, and I am disappointed that you would so easily cast aside the one thing that makes you a mom. Your daughters.
Better luck next time.
p.s. To all my dear friends who made it this far please know that this is a letter of strength and affirmation. I love my sister and we talk all the time. I love my friends whom are my deepest friends, and they've heard an earful too...and now you have. This is public notice. I have nothing to hide and nothing to fear. THis has not beaten me.