photo by me

I’ve spoken about my relationship with my mom a few times on this blog. We’re not very close. We don’t see eye-to-eye. There is something between us that doesn’t work quite right.

I don’t know what it is. I’ve tried to fix it and I’ve gone to therapy over it but it’s one of those things that just doesn’t seem to be fixable.

I know that that I’m down the list of her favorite people. It’s been made clear to me for years. Now, I just stay away to avoid the hurt.

So, when I got a call on Friday from the emergency room, I wasn’t sure what to think or say. My mom was in the hospital – and had been since the day before. She had been having heart pains and had to be taken to the hospital.

It didn’t faze me that I hadn’t been called. I wasn’t surprised at all. But I was surprised that no one in the family had been called. Only my sister and her husband knew about it. Not my dad or my brothers (Dad and Shadow are on a motorcycle trip in Colorado – but totally within reach because they are at my grandparents’ house – and Todd is in Mexico, incommunicado) knew about it, either.

And that made me sad – for my mom.

When something like this strikes, it is so helpful to have people around who care about you. It makes it better. It makes you feel like you’re not alone, that you’re loved, and that you’ll make it through.

At least that’s how it is for me – and I’m hugely anti-social. I like to know that people care about me. I like to know that someone is there for me, just in case I need them – even if not for some tangible need but for moral or emotional support.

When I’ve dealt with the cancer, it was the most scary when I was alone. I’ve never felt more alone than when I was alone during those times.

When people were there, it made all the difference to me.

And I hope my mom realizes that soon. Having loved ones around can change everything.

—

A friend sent me this. I thought it was insightful (if not a little morose).

This Be The Verse
by Phillip Larkin

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.