your mama writes LJ entries
This isn't going to be a real update, and if you're dear_bradenton or Jonathan it's not even news, but there's this girl at work with whom I am in love because she's really nice and stuff, and she and Jordan help make my days there not so shitty. In any case, I could have made her cry today.
At some point I think she was up in front booth with me, talking, when a car came to the speaker. I told her that she had to go take their order, and that she had to hurry because she didn't have a register up here. Her retort was a very innocent "Your mom doesn't have a register." I might've flinched, but didn't say anything because dude something like 90% of the people in my life don't know about Mom. Later we were slow again and we were teasing each other, and I told her that her face looked funny, or she smelled funny, or something like that. It was early in the morning, so the details are kind of fuzzy. Her response, again, was something about 'my mom.'
I hear the phrase all the damn time, and I know that in almost every case of a "your mom" response, it's innocent and doesn't even reference anyone's real mother, but sometimes it gets sort of grating to hear it. I don't mean because it's overused or really insulting: it just gets really hard to be reminded over and over that my mother's not around. It even starts getting to me on (the very rare) days when dear_bradenton uses it frequently, and she was her mother too! So I think eventually, I'll have to tell the girl that it sort of makes me uncomfortable/depressed to hear the phrase used so often...and hope she doesn't fall all over herself with sympathy/pity. Because I wouldn't be telling her that to try to get pity or anything. Bah.
On a similar topic, I had a really intense dream the other night. If I were still in school I think I might've woken Brittany up with sleep-noises, but since only Jonathan was there with me, we'll never know. I was walking down the hallway in Mom's old house, into the living room, and saw Mom laying on the couch in there. She smiled at me and out of nowhere I started crying. I knelt next to the couch and told her fiercely (I remember NEEDING her to hear/believe/understand the things I was saying) that I loved her no matter what I said, and how even when I said that I hated her I never meant it and just general apologies and "I love yous" and everything that people always want to tell dead relatives. I think she replied, in the dream, but now that I think about it, I cannot remember what she said. I do remember that we were going to go onto some platform floating in the air or some water and talk, but then I forced myself awake because I was afraid of being late for work.
I never know what to do with intense dreams like those, where they're not really that sad or happy or scary. Because I didn't wake up sad. I remember a huge sense of desperation like a knot in my chest/weight in my stomach, and the downright mindless NEED for her to hear what I was saying. I'd like to think that in dreams like those (I've had two others, and they both involved Mom), I'm actually getting through to her somehow, but then the logical/realistic/Brennan side of me breaks in and reminds me that the odds are pretty great that she's just straight up gone, instead of lingering around me.
The day after her funeral was windy and I feel the urge to write that down right now.
At some point I think she was up in front booth with me, talking, when a car came to the speaker. I told her that she had to go take their order, and that she had to hurry because she didn't have a register up here. Her retort was a very innocent "Your mom doesn't have a register." I might've flinched, but didn't say anything because dude something like 90% of the people in my life don't know about Mom. Later we were slow again and we were teasing each other, and I told her that her face looked funny, or she smelled funny, or something like that. It was early in the morning, so the details are kind of fuzzy. Her response, again, was something about 'my mom.'
I hear the phrase all the damn time, and I know that in almost every case of a "your mom" response, it's innocent and doesn't even reference anyone's real mother, but sometimes it gets sort of grating to hear it. I don't mean because it's overused or really insulting: it just gets really hard to be reminded over and over that my mother's not around. It even starts getting to me on (the very rare) days when dear_bradenton uses it frequently, and she was her mother too! So I think eventually, I'll have to tell the girl that it sort of makes me uncomfortable/depressed to hear the phrase used so often...and hope she doesn't fall all over herself with sympathy/pity. Because I wouldn't be telling her that to try to get pity or anything. Bah.
On a similar topic, I had a really intense dream the other night. If I were still in school I think I might've woken Brittany up with sleep-noises, but since only Jonathan was there with me, we'll never know. I was walking down the hallway in Mom's old house, into the living room, and saw Mom laying on the couch in there. She smiled at me and out of nowhere I started crying. I knelt next to the couch and told her fiercely (I remember NEEDING her to hear/believe/understand the things I was saying) that I loved her no matter what I said, and how even when I said that I hated her I never meant it and just general apologies and "I love yous" and everything that people always want to tell dead relatives. I think she replied, in the dream, but now that I think about it, I cannot remember what she said. I do remember that we were going to go onto some platform floating in the air or some water and talk, but then I forced myself awake because I was afraid of being late for work.
I never know what to do with intense dreams like those, where they're not really that sad or happy or scary. Because I didn't wake up sad. I remember a huge sense of desperation like a knot in my chest/weight in my stomach, and the downright mindless NEED for her to hear what I was saying. I'd like to think that in dreams like those (I've had two others, and they both involved Mom), I'm actually getting through to her somehow, but then the logical/realistic/Brennan side of me breaks in and reminds me that the odds are pretty great that she's just straight up gone, instead of lingering around me.
The day after her funeral was windy and I feel the urge to write that down right now.