It's been 24 hours with Momma staying here. We've had a nice time; last night we stayed up late, talking and watching Hillary on the DNC. The whole point (for Momma) was watching for the mayoral results here. Mine was, well, Hillary. The most interesting part was that she got so distracted by Hillary's speech that she failed to notice that there will be a mayoral runoff here. Go, Hillary!
Today I had to go to the parents' house to pick up a few things that Momma had forgotten. My dad mentioned that he had picked up Momma's dry cleaning, and while I thought of that as I did a version of Supermarket Sweep through the house while my friend kept my dad occupied outside the house, I didn't pick it up. The reason I didn't is because Momma told me she planned to stay until the weekend, and then see what happens.
So I get home and I tell Momma about the dry cleaning. She says that she wishes that I had grabbed her dry cleaning, because she's got nothing to wear to work next week.
NEXT WEEK!!! She's planning on staying through next week? Umm. Uh-oh. OK. WHAT?
I love that she's feeling strong enough to leave her husband (ick) of almost 47 years. It's not been terrible all the time, but it's been bad for a long time. I've wanted her to leave (see below). I'm proud of her feeling like she has control of her own destiny.
Herein lies the problem. HER destiny, not mine. So now I've got my mother as an apparently perma-roommate? Her little comments about how she thinks I have no life hurt, but, at the same time, are not my issue; I can tell they're about her need to control, since she's had none for years.
But I already miss my privacy, my time on the phone with friends, my TV choices, and my bed. I wonder what will happen. I'm certain that if this goes on for (oh, God) a few weeks, it won't end well. I don't want to be the reason she feels like she has to go back to my dad.
Is this the split between parent and child that happens to most everyone else when they're like, in their 20s?
P.S. - I can already see the dichotomy regarding my mother living in my house.
Just over 24 hours, and I'm already praying for some solution? Hence, the title of this post.
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1 comment:
Wow. I'm presuming all of this transpired after we talked on the phone. I can't say that I'm surprised.
Be patient with your Mom. This is probably the hardest and maybe the bravest thing she's ever done. And, I suspect, her anxiety level is stratospheric.
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