When all is said and done, I really love my mom. For instance, earlier this week she suggested we sit down together and have a stiff drink. Today we got to talk again when I went over there (for yet another Skype adventure). But we got to talk for a while, just the two of us, no kids, no other family members. It was so nice-- like when we used to talk and walk in the park almost every day. When it felt like she was one of my best friends on the planet. It's crazy that just having bad knees could change so much in areas that seem unrelated. But that one on one time was critical to our relationship. Anyway, just having a taste of that again today was comforting to both of us. She pointed her cane at me, tears in her eyes, and said, "I've really missed this, you know." And I love that today I could tell she really understood me and where I was and how I felt. Gosh it feels good to be understood by someone you love. It's the only way, really, to feel fully loved by them I think. Or anyway, it's a huge part of it. Can you be loved and love someone who you don't think understands you? I don't know. But my gut says not fully. Not that river-deep and stable love.
And as I was leaving, she said "Don't fall and kill yourself on that ice out there.... or else we won't be able to have breakfast tomorrow."
"Nonsense," says I, "Of course you can have breakfast tomorrow. You shouldn't cancel that just because I'm dead. You guys need to eat."
"But we wouldn't want to have breakfast."
"No no no, mom, that's silly. You eat breakfast anyway.... Unless you leave my body out there in the driveway. Then I could understand cancelling breakfast."
And we have these kinds of conversations after the heartfelt and carry on like they're perfectly legit and reasonable. Gosh I love it. And I love how we in my family can't have a single serious moment without some kind of comic relief shortly thereafter. We follow the build and release of a Shakespeare play. Which makes perfect sense. Love it.
No comments:
Post a Comment