Why Everyday Is Mother's Day, Or At Least It Should Be
Myself, my mother, and her mother at my graduation in 2006
Monday morning, I woke up sad. To top it off, my mom was traveling for four days. Usually I don't mind but lately I've had this nagging feeling that something bad is going to happen. It's uncharacteristic of me, I suppose it's another stage of mourning. I hope it passes because one day last week when Nikki didn't pick up her phone or return my text messages, I almost called her mother.
Turns out she was just in a meeting. Oops.
When we finally did talk I explained that I was worried because the last time I didn't hear from somebody, I never heard from him again. Feeling insecure about my admission, I chuckled to soften the intensity. She understood and I felt like an idiot; a relieved idiot. Then she made me laugh at myself and I felt my age again.
Anyway, my mom was leaving me and I started to get worried. I started to feel myself going through what I deemed to be an irrational separation-anxiety. I know how my body deals with anxiety. I decide to start to "use my words". That's what the lady on TV said would help.
"Call me when you get in," I tell her on Monday morning.
"Ok!" she says back. Monday afternoon she didn't call. I call her.
"Have you made it in?" I ask. Argh, she's still not there yet.
"I'm about 70 miles away, I'll call when I get there!"
She doesn't call. I decide not to call her back because my Mom may not "get" my morbid explanations for irrational behavior. She probably won't make me laugh at myself like Nikki did.
She's not supposed to.
Instead of worrying I sort through the mail, rip open bills and tape another beautiful sympathy card from my Uncle to my mirror. Then I change clothes and leave the house for the night. I need to escape.
I got through Tuesday pretty well. Wednesday night, while we were eating chicken fingers, my Dad told me he was going out of town the next day. I could feel my face getting warm. I tried to run off to my room but my dad actually enjoys my conversation. So I sat there holding it in until I found the perfect time to escape (again). I hurry up to my room, turn the lights off, and tell Sean he better look after my Dad tomorrow.
This morning I called my mom bright and early so she could reassure me about my Dad's flight itinerary. She answered the phone on the 4th ring. I counted. When she picked up, her voice sounded scratchy. I asked her if she was awake yet and she said she wasn't. Oops. I quickly got the information I needed and was ready to hang up. "Okay thanks, see you lat..."
"So do you think you'll be busy at work today?" she asks out of nowhere.
I answer her and before I can begin to try and close the conversation, she moves on to the next topic just as erratically as she introduced the first one. "Your brother has been looking for a faster car," she says.
I kept trying to escape and hang up but she was relentless. I continue answer her queries and smile as she engages me in the random happenings in her world. She bounces from topic to topic and sprinkles motherly advice like, "and that's why you should only carry ONE credit card," in between her stories. It was so random but so needed.
We ended up talking for an hour and I actually forget that I'm supposed to be worrying.
She ends our conversation with "well thank you for waking me up!"
I want to tell her the same thing...every single day