Monday, February 23, 2004
This morning, again, we are living in the middle of a Christmas Card!
Mom isn't up yet but, despite her annoyance with snow, she'll love this. She always does. The streets are clear. I've walked once and driven once and it's invigorating. Our heaviest snow promises to be between now and 1500, tapering through the night, spitting some tomorrow. I promised Mom (much to her chagrin) that I'd be "working on" her to get her up somewhat earlier than usual. I intend to start about 0900. This way, she should be eating about 1000 although, despite herself, she gets excited when we settle into snow up here. It's too picturesque not to appreciate.
Yes, we caught Sex and the City last night including the pre-show. I wasn't sure she understood that there would be no more episodes. When it was over though, she turned to me and said, "So, that's it. Well, I wish Carrie hadn't ended up with Mr. Big."
During the scene where Miranda comes to terms with what it is to take care of an aging, frail parent, particularly during the bathing scene after which Magda says to Miranda, "What you did?...That's love," I teared up, at which my mother happened to notice and cast a sardonic eye my way. That made me laugh. I love the way she takes what we're doing here for granted. I would never wish to cede my ability to become deeply emotionally affected and expressive about what I do but at the same time her no-nonsense approach to life often keeps my emotionality from hamstringing me.
And, of course, there's always the Black Cohosh and Evening Primrose Oil.
One aspect of my relationship with my mother that makes this adventure very interesting: Because I am largely my father's daughter physically and essentially, much of what I go through my mother does not understand and vice versa. Thus we tend not to take one another's reactions or suggestions for granted (except for the fact that my mother still believes I never know what I'm talking about but feels it is best to humor me so I don't suffer my ignorance), we are often able to surprise one another and, I think, through me she is getting to know her husband better and the better side of her husband. I remember the second year I was with her on February 18, 1995. MCS (who was then My Tucscon Sister) and her family were planning on visiting us. Seeing as how it coincided with the 10 year anniversary of my father's death, I decided the meal should be a commemoration of him. At one point I told my mother that I was glad she had picked him to be the father of her kids, that I was happy with his contribution to my gene pool. It took her by surprise.
Later that evening (this was in the days when she was normally alert and handling all her own affairs) she recalled what I'd said. "You know, I'd never thought about it that way, but I suppose I'm glad that my parents were who they were, too, because I like who I am."
"I think your parents are very pleased with what you're doing with what they gave you."
She laughed. "Well, I can tell you, your parents are pleased with what you're doing."
Although she meant it generally, I took it personally. On a fairly regular basis I feel as though my father is communicating to me that I'm taking care of his lover very well and he thanks me. I know my thoughts about him even being existent enough to be aware of what Mom and I are doing here are purely allegorical. Still, it is a poetic way to express my feeling that I am doing this for many people including myself, not the least of whom are all the people who love/have loved my mother, my father being one of the more important of these.
At any rate, we decided it was a good thing we have all the Sex and the City episodes except for the last season on DVD. Neither of us has seen them all and my mother was sorry the show was ending. We are now halfway through the 2nd season and she is enthralled enough to actually remember, when we're looking for something to do, that we can always watch "Those Girls".
Yes, we caught Sex and the City last night including the pre-show. I wasn't sure she understood that there would be no more episodes. When it was over though, she turned to me and said, "So, that's it. Well, I wish Carrie hadn't ended up with Mr. Big."
During the scene where Miranda comes to terms with what it is to take care of an aging, frail parent, particularly during the bathing scene after which Magda says to Miranda, "What you did?...That's love," I teared up, at which my mother happened to notice and cast a sardonic eye my way. That made me laugh. I love the way she takes what we're doing here for granted. I would never wish to cede my ability to become deeply emotionally affected and expressive about what I do but at the same time her no-nonsense approach to life often keeps my emotionality from hamstringing me.
And, of course, there's always the Black Cohosh and Evening Primrose Oil.
One aspect of my relationship with my mother that makes this adventure very interesting: Because I am largely my father's daughter physically and essentially, much of what I go through my mother does not understand and vice versa. Thus we tend not to take one another's reactions or suggestions for granted (except for the fact that my mother still believes I never know what I'm talking about but feels it is best to humor me so I don't suffer my ignorance), we are often able to surprise one another and, I think, through me she is getting to know her husband better and the better side of her husband. I remember the second year I was with her on February 18, 1995. MCS (who was then My Tucscon Sister) and her family were planning on visiting us. Seeing as how it coincided with the 10 year anniversary of my father's death, I decided the meal should be a commemoration of him. At one point I told my mother that I was glad she had picked him to be the father of her kids, that I was happy with his contribution to my gene pool. It took her by surprise.
Later that evening (this was in the days when she was normally alert and handling all her own affairs) she recalled what I'd said. "You know, I'd never thought about it that way, but I suppose I'm glad that my parents were who they were, too, because I like who I am."
"I think your parents are very pleased with what you're doing with what they gave you."
She laughed. "Well, I can tell you, your parents are pleased with what you're doing."
Although she meant it generally, I took it personally. On a fairly regular basis I feel as though my father is communicating to me that I'm taking care of his lover very well and he thanks me. I know my thoughts about him even being existent enough to be aware of what Mom and I are doing here are purely allegorical. Still, it is a poetic way to express my feeling that I am doing this for many people including myself, not the least of whom are all the people who love/have loved my mother, my father being one of the more important of these.
At any rate, we decided it was a good thing we have all the Sex and the City episodes except for the last season on DVD. Neither of us has seen them all and my mother was sorry the show was ending. We are now halfway through the 2nd season and she is enthralled enough to actually remember, when we're looking for something to do, that we can always watch "Those Girls".
