My mother came to see me this weekend. She drops in on me even more than usual because of her own insecurities about my health and safety. A lot of turmoil has occurred in my life the past few months. Break ups that felt like death, lost opportunities and feelings of stagnation seem to rise up with me each morning. I've come to the point in my life where I look around and wonder what it all means.
She sat down in my kitchen and moaned endlessly about my lack of groceries. Of course all of you are familiar with my style of grocery shopping. It's a weekly trip to the store for whatever is on sale at the time paired with a coupon. I never have extra, just enough to get through a work week without having to run out or worse, spend money at the money pit known as the work cafeteria.
As I was saying, she sat across from me in the kitchen moaning about how hungry she was and my lack of food. In her opinion, a proper meal consists of a giant portion of protein, heavy starches, and a few veggies thrown in for good measure. I'm not knocking her style, I grew up a healthy, buxom young woman in her household, but as I get older I feel like I need less and less to survivor.
I also feel like I needed less and less of her endless moaning. As I began to get to a boiling point, I suddenly thought again about stagnation and the age I am in life. As my life progress, so does my mothers and the moments we have with each other are way too precious to take for granted. Not too long ago she sat me down in her living room and asked me to decide between myself and my two other siblings who will have medical power of attorney over her in case something were to happen. She didn't ask my father, brother, or sister, she had asked me to have this discussion.
My first thought was the conversation we were having at that moment was uncalled for, not to mention a bit macabre. Yet, it sunk in for me that this conversation wasn't at all inappropriate, it was just a part of life. A messy, terrible part of life we all must go through eventually. One that many of us hope to go through after we've said all that we have wanted to say to the other person.
So when my mother came this past weekend to bitch and moan about not eating for six hours, instead of falling back on my youthful impatience, I just absorbed the moment I was spending with her. I want to remember it.
There are so many things I want to remember with her. She mentioned how I hated her childhood storybook voices because they were scary. I didn't remember thinking that at all, but then again my childhood is one huge blur right now.
I do remember one thing. How much I hope she will be able to meet my life partner. How I want to fight with her about wedding details and guest lists. I want her to coach me through my first marital spat and see me have my first child. None of those things are guaranteed to happen in our lives. That's pretty much what life is about, unpredictable memories we tend to stumble upon when we least expect them.
P. Manolos.
She sat down in my kitchen and moaned endlessly about my lack of groceries. Of course all of you are familiar with my style of grocery shopping. It's a weekly trip to the store for whatever is on sale at the time paired with a coupon. I never have extra, just enough to get through a work week without having to run out or worse, spend money at the money pit known as the work cafeteria.
As I was saying, she sat across from me in the kitchen moaning about how hungry she was and my lack of food. In her opinion, a proper meal consists of a giant portion of protein, heavy starches, and a few veggies thrown in for good measure. I'm not knocking her style, I grew up a healthy, buxom young woman in her household, but as I get older I feel like I need less and less to survivor.
I also feel like I needed less and less of her endless moaning. As I began to get to a boiling point, I suddenly thought again about stagnation and the age I am in life. As my life progress, so does my mothers and the moments we have with each other are way too precious to take for granted. Not too long ago she sat me down in her living room and asked me to decide between myself and my two other siblings who will have medical power of attorney over her in case something were to happen. She didn't ask my father, brother, or sister, she had asked me to have this discussion.
My first thought was the conversation we were having at that moment was uncalled for, not to mention a bit macabre. Yet, it sunk in for me that this conversation wasn't at all inappropriate, it was just a part of life. A messy, terrible part of life we all must go through eventually. One that many of us hope to go through after we've said all that we have wanted to say to the other person.
So when my mother came this past weekend to bitch and moan about not eating for six hours, instead of falling back on my youthful impatience, I just absorbed the moment I was spending with her. I want to remember it.
There are so many things I want to remember with her. She mentioned how I hated her childhood storybook voices because they were scary. I didn't remember thinking that at all, but then again my childhood is one huge blur right now.
I do remember one thing. How much I hope she will be able to meet my life partner. How I want to fight with her about wedding details and guest lists. I want her to coach me through my first marital spat and see me have my first child. None of those things are guaranteed to happen in our lives. That's pretty much what life is about, unpredictable memories we tend to stumble upon when we least expect them.
P. Manolos.
