Mamma Mia!

Second blog of the day...I was holed up in my house sick, what do you expect. All I could do was think...think...think....

Being sick or sad in my world also means watching Gilmore Girls. I am watching season four for like the third time. In the middle of this episode Lane is at a gig with her band. She has fought her whole young life to be able to live as this little music crazed rock star. Her mother, Mrs. Kim, never approved, wanted Lane to be a good seventh day adventist. During the gig Lane is left by her band mates while they either hang with there family or their groupies. Lane sits behind her drum. After her Lane walks to her mothers house, sneaks in and kisses her mother on the head, tearing up on her way out. and tears fell from my eyes watching it too. It floors me that at 25 approval from my mother is important.

As an adult, my mother is here for me now. I am going through a rough patch that I hope will leave me with more clarity on who I am...that's what the twenties are all about...right?? Well, the soul searching and life defining began and I'm still reeling but I'm not dead yet. All this to say that it was hard for me to let go of the hurt from being rejected by my mom when I was growing up, there's a part of me that hasn't. And, if my mom wasn't persistant about being a part of my life...calling, writing, sending me cards and, my favorite, Halloween care packages, we wouldn't be close. I wrote our relationship off when I moved away. But I always wanted it.

I called my mom today, it's her birthday. I call her every so often to talk. She watched me cry on the floor of my apartment after a Shane fiasco and didn't judge me. In fact she said something to the affect of no I'm not pathetic, I'm compassionate which is actually a good thing. It occurred to me that in the past years my mother stopped judging me, stopped trying to make me feel bad for things, stopped blaming me for what happened to our family. And I had just gotten to the point where I could protect myself...and I didn't need to anymore. I always have a double reaction to talking with my mom. I feel good when I hang up the phone and then I feel weird about feeling good. But at the end of the day, it's nice to know my Mom is there. She cares about me. She's even come to visit me more than once. Now when I'm lonely, as lonely as I've ever been, I can talk to my Mom. Weird, I know, it takes away part of my identity (the sulky/idependent/i never needed a mother part) but in its place is the single 25 year old girl who calls her mom on the way to get a biopsy part. And that's a bit healthier. Well, it's at the very least, a little less lonely. So I'll take it.