A Conversation with my Mother
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Me: "I will be away for two days next week."
Her: "Oh, why is that?"
Me: "I will be giving a presentation to book reps on my textbook and having discussions about writing another book. They want to commission me to write a book that could be quite significant on the topic of ____."
Her: "Well, you better be prepared for bad weather. You could be delayed in airports, have to stay longer than you expect to. And I suppose Mr.C. will have to take time off. How many days will he have to take? How long are you gone for again?"
My interpretation:
She could give a shit about the things I do and even if she does, it doesn't really matter because she can't express herself like any other human being might. She looks for every possible critical analysis of a situation that she can. Instead of congratulating me and being happy for me, she thinks about snow storms and poor dear Mr.C. having to take a day off work. Poor thing. Bad wife. What do I do these things for anyway? She is a really terrible person, my mother. It is hard to feel so conflicted about someone you are supposed to hold so dear. But I don't, because she doesn't. Never has. Doesn't know how. I don't care; I shouldn't know how either but I do. Get over yourself mother. I know you won't. It actually only gets worse as you age. And I am not a big enough person to reach out to you. Because I can not stand your judgement and synical self.
Her: "Oh, why is that?"
Me: "I will be giving a presentation to book reps on my textbook and having discussions about writing another book. They want to commission me to write a book that could be quite significant on the topic of ____."
Her: "Well, you better be prepared for bad weather. You could be delayed in airports, have to stay longer than you expect to. And I suppose Mr.C. will have to take time off. How many days will he have to take? How long are you gone for again?"
My interpretation:
She could give a shit about the things I do and even if she does, it doesn't really matter because she can't express herself like any other human being might. She looks for every possible critical analysis of a situation that she can. Instead of congratulating me and being happy for me, she thinks about snow storms and poor dear Mr.C. having to take a day off work. Poor thing. Bad wife. What do I do these things for anyway? She is a really terrible person, my mother. It is hard to feel so conflicted about someone you are supposed to hold so dear. But I don't, because she doesn't. Never has. Doesn't know how. I don't care; I shouldn't know how either but I do. Get over yourself mother. I know you won't. It actually only gets worse as you age. And I am not a big enough person to reach out to you. Because I can not stand your judgement and synical self.
This entry was posted on Thursday, January 12, 2006 at 8:49 AM.
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10:00 AM
I was so sad reading her reactions to your conversation. I was disappointed in what she said. I would have been so proud, wanting to know more about the specifics....just generally thrilled that my child was doing so well.
My Mom does things like that too. I've learned that her own anxiety, dashed dreams etc lead her to not appreciate who and what I am.
It is very hard when someone so dear falls so short in this realm. I am sure you, like I, are so different with our children.
What is the commissioned book to be about? Don't leave me hanging.
xo,
Deb