Mumsy.
The usual scene this morning, moments before I get into my car to drive back to Valhalla. My mother got up at 7 AM this morning, probably in hopes of being downstairs first, so she could have all my care-packages in neat plastic bags (and directions for use, no less).
The vacuum sealed salmon must be eaten within 3-4 days. Remember to refrigerate the squash. (No I like rotten squashes). Why do you eat so much squash? don't you want some shrimp?
I would like to remind her that I'm 24, and was perfectly capable of eating squash 3 meals a day, 7 days a week if I wanted. But I did not have the heart.
Yesterday she completed the best sewing project, in the history of her sewing things for me. Amid legions of pants cropped to the mid shin (before capris were fashionable), or dresses made sizes to large, there is now, the perfectly sleeved white coat; dirty hems neatly hemmed away. When I sat down to write my notes today in the ED, I did so with remarkable ease.
I think of how her personality so often gets in the way of her good intentions. Unashamedly dogmatic and vociferously judgmental, she is locked and closed to persuation. And when pushed further, she explodes. And so I've learned to take it all in. And implode. Distress where the rest of the world cannot see. Because I am afraid to fuel the fire; suffering in silence to avert the massacre. But ultimately I am happy I do. Because it would only be fair to her that I follow her rules. Behind all of them are good intent, unwavering. She does not want me to eat rotten squash. Is all.
This becomes most obvious to me when watching her getting smaller from my car window, waving in pantomime.
I think it might be then when I miss her the most.
The vacuum sealed salmon must be eaten within 3-4 days. Remember to refrigerate the squash. (No I like rotten squashes). Why do you eat so much squash? don't you want some shrimp?
I would like to remind her that I'm 24, and was perfectly capable of eating squash 3 meals a day, 7 days a week if I wanted. But I did not have the heart.
Yesterday she completed the best sewing project, in the history of her sewing things for me. Amid legions of pants cropped to the mid shin (before capris were fashionable), or dresses made sizes to large, there is now, the perfectly sleeved white coat; dirty hems neatly hemmed away. When I sat down to write my notes today in the ED, I did so with remarkable ease.
I think of how her personality so often gets in the way of her good intentions. Unashamedly dogmatic and vociferously judgmental, she is locked and closed to persuation. And when pushed further, she explodes. And so I've learned to take it all in. And implode. Distress where the rest of the world cannot see. Because I am afraid to fuel the fire; suffering in silence to avert the massacre. But ultimately I am happy I do. Because it would only be fair to her that I follow her rules. Behind all of them are good intent, unwavering. She does not want me to eat rotten squash. Is all.
This becomes most obvious to me when watching her getting smaller from my car window, waving in pantomime.
I think it might be then when I miss her the most.
posted by Maureen @ 7:24 PM
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