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Tuesday, March 28, 2006

A Mother's Love

“Some mothers are kissing mothers and some are scolding mothers, but it is love just the same, and most mothers kiss and scold together.” ~Pearl S. Buck

Two years ago, I took it upon myself to surprise my mother for Easter. I drove the seven hours to Albany, with only my father knowing, and arrived home around 11:30 PM. In my haste and excitement I busted my ass running up our front steps. When I say “busted my ass” I mean I tripped – while on the phone with my mother – and fell up the steps, cutting my elbow, knee, my hand and two toes. When I rang the doorbell, practically in tears, my mother spent a good 5 minutes trying to figure out why the doorbell was echoing on the phone. I told her she was having hallucinations and to open the damn door. She saw me and was happy and exclaimed that there was no where for me to sleep. The hell?

I mean, although I spent the first few days of my life in an honest to God drawer, I had a perfectly acceptable bedroom that had been painted in the Guilderland colors with yellow furniture for accents (It looks cool, I swear). “What do you mean I don’t have a place to sleep?” was the incredulous response. “Well G took your room over, because his is a mess and the basement is a mess, so there’s no place for you to sleep.” She went on to shove the knife further into my tired and busted ass heart to say; “It’s not like you live here anymore Heather Lynn. You have your own apartment and I wasn’t expecting you.” Ouch. This reminds me of the time that she told me – quite recently actually – that she was debating what to do with my bedroom now that I don’t live there anymore.

Fine, fully functional adult with her own apartment, that I understand, but the woman has pretty much been planning my eventual departure and most likely has drapes picked out. I bet ugly ass drapes too that are made out of kente cloth. Ok, I’m lying about the kente cloth part, but if you saw the living room, you’d understand. I should also mention that she has told me that unless I am seriously injured or dying, I’m not allowed to move back home. Trust me, I seriously contemplated it when I spent that whole three weeks unemployed. When told of the idea she replied with an emphatic “Hell no.” Meanwhile G is being molly coddled and probably won’t be asked to leave until he turns 25 and is offered a dowry of some sort.

This was all brought to mind this morning when I realized that I hadn’t talked to my mother in like days. Like, I don’t even recall the last time I spoke with her, but I’m assuming it was last week and only after I harassed her assistant. And even then, the conversation was limited to “What do you want? I have a meeting to go to.” That’s the love of a mother people. Don’t be surprised when after my trip home for Easter, she starts referring to me as “Oh, what’s her name…”

14 Comments:

Blogger Dirk the Feeble said...

Dang, I at least get the couch when I stay at the 'rents, or else one of my sisters will vacate her bed for me.

11:56 AM  
Blogger Diet Coke of Evil said...

I hear you - although I've managed to hold fort over the "guest room" that just happens to have all my crap in there. For Christmas my senior year in college my family got me a complete kitchen set. Plates, bowls, pots, pans, flatware, cups, wineglasses. I think it was pretty clear I wasn't moving back home.

11:57 AM  
Blogger Marci (aka Baby Banana) said...

OMG I totally feel you. I was terrified to tell my mother that I was moving out (I was 21 at the time)...just so scared that she'd be sad/mad/etc. When I finally got up the nerve, her response? "It's about fuckin' time!"

She loves me to death as I do her, but those apron strings were not just cut, but severed, burned, cemented and then thrown in the river.

12:35 PM  
Anonymous MappyB said...

That is so funny, and sad too, in a way, but so true for all of us!

1:01 PM  
Blogger Heather B. said...

Dirk: Since then, my room has been readily available. But it seems that your siblings are much kinder than mine are.

DCOE: I got a kitchen set years ago, I should've taken that as a sign then.

Marci: Exactly, it's not like my mother hates me or something, it's just time for me to move out.

MappyB: that's what makes it amusing, it's so true and it's just one of those things that is inevitable.

1:06 PM  
Blogger Lady K said...

My mother cried and had my father and sister yelling at me for suggesting that I may move out. My sister said to me,"Are we that bad to be around??"

Later, my father asked me to never move away.....

2:51 PM  
Blogger Heather B. said...

Lady K: Now I feel like my mother might actually hate me. There were only tears of joy on their end. Lots of joy.

5:38 PM  
Anonymous Hänni said...

Saw you at sarconomical. My question is why am I not on your blogroll?

I have literally sent... well actually this is my first time here.

It rocks.

I wrote about boobies last week too. How's that for synchornicity?

6:52 PM  
Blogger Liz said...

My parents retired to Florida last year. They have two empty bedrooms but I'm positive they don't want us to move in. I'm not sure why! Maybe it has something to do with the fact that our dog threw up all over their bed last Christmas.

7:39 PM  
Blogger Anonymous Midwest Girl said...

“It’s not like you live here anymore Heather Lynn. You have your own apartment and I wasn’t expecting you.” Ouch. That would hurt. I'm so grateful my mom constantly reminds me I can come home anytime I want, even if there is no place to sleep. Six people in a three bedroom house? My brother and sisters were sighing with relief when I left.

10:07 PM  
Blogger MKD said...

My mom converted my bedroom to a library exactly 3 days after I left for college.

She sent me pictures.

11:26 PM  
Blogger LisaBinDaCity said...

Awww, I know how it goes. My former bedroom is now the guest room. Phooey. Doesn't she know it's supposed to be a mecca saved for only me???

8:36 AM  
Blogger Heather B. said...

Hanni: what's actually funny, is that I didn't write that particular comment (the one that you're referencing) in Sarcomical, but thanks for visiting! Yay boobies.

Liz: my mom has her retirement home on Martha's Vineyard and it's a struggle for her to say that I can come up, like she MUST be there when my friends are there. I totally get you.

AMG: I feel like my mom comes off as this mean person who doesn't want me home EVER. She likes when I'm home but she doesn't want me to stay there forever. To be honest, I'd need to be drunk(er) all the time to actually live there. She happens to be quite excited about me coming home for Easter and she has the house cleaner all queued up for my arrival.

MKD: hahahahaha, my mom won't do that because then she'd have to do something will all of my furniture.

LisaB: exactly!

9:24 AM  
Blogger Isabel said...

Oh my gosh...I can totally relate. My folks have like 7 bedrooms in their house, and only ONE has a bed. So we all of the kids are "home", we have to fight over who gets the room with an honest to God bed.

I surpised my folks once and drove the 15 hours to their house. They didn't realize it was even ME until I had unpacked the car and walked inside the house. They thought I was my brother's wife (who I look NOTHING like).

Parents...they are dense!

(but we love them!)

5:25 PM  

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