i have a really good mom. among the best, i imagine.
you know how i know?
because when i was sixteen, paused at a stoplight, she turned to me and said, you know if you ever got pregnant you could come tell me. we'd handle that together.
and when at nineteen i fell in love for the first time, she wrote me a letter explaining the joy and adventure (and privlilege) that sex can be. stripped of religious constraints or social expectations, the absolute wonder it is when you adore the person lying next to you.
back in february, when i had my tarot cards read, the woman reading them told me this last chapter of my life was finally ending. i was better now and could move on--move foreward. and i kinda cocked my head all dubious-like and said, i feel like i've been out of it for a little while, i thought the next chapter had already begun.
knowingly she smiled, yeah i know. i know you think that. but you were still moving up and through it.
she was right of course. you think you're well and then you reach a new level of well and persepective is a heaven of a thing. well, where everything is just better. easier. more normal. and normal takes on new meaning. and it's good. it's really, really good.
and all of the sudden, it was done.
the eating disorder was done.
but with its passing came this premonition of death. and it was tethered to my mother.
so i called home. mom, have you had all your tests done? have you been to see all your different doctors? is everything okay, is there anything you need to tell me?
yes, yes, everything's fine. what's going on with you?
okay. sigh. breath. okay.
but the feeling persisted. nagged. tugged at my feet.
so i gave it some good, long thought. and then, there came this:
if i'm well, really and truly well, then i'm an adult. finally, i'm an adult. and so i don't need the love of my parents in the same way. i don't need the love of my mother in the same capacity and so there comes the death of the relationship between us as it's always been.
i'm no longer my mother's little girl.
i told my mother this. fearfully i told her this. and in her infinite wisdom and indefatigable grace she said, honey i am so ready for the next chapter of our relationship. i'm so ready to move into this new phase with you.
oh to remember these things for when i have a daughter! oh to remeber what my mother said and how she said it! oh to have the courage and wherewithal to be the kind of mother mine has always been.
Posted by meg fee at 8:16 PM