Pickled beets and Pork Chops

Friday. Lunch. Nothing very unusual to find on someone's schedule. That is, unless you're me. And unless it's with my mother.

Yes, after 12 years of no contact, we've decided to meet in the middle and do lunch this week. To say things have changed would be an understatement. There was a time when she wouldn't meet me next door much less twenty miles down the road.

I've spoken with Mom (gosh, I used to choke on that name) four times. Each conversation was absent of the blame game and full of past apologies and future hopes. There's an underlying "I'm here now Honey and it's okay" in her tone. Her voice is soft, calm and inviting to my inner child who has missed her so much. To the adult I've become, she's accepting and only asks for my time...and a chance to make things right.

Yesterday I thought the world was opening up and swallowing me in as I heard the words,"I've always loved you Honey, you're my baby and I've missed you so much." I could feel the lava of the planet's inner core begin to burn my feet as she continued to unveil little things I'd given her that she'd kept all these years. Would've placed my life savings on the planet blowing up before she ever said,"Honey, I'm proud of you." But I'd be dead ass broke now cause she said it last night....but more importantly, I could tell by her near whisper, she meant it.

Yes, the woman who has been the catalyst for much of my disappointments, hurts and resentments has now appeared as the person I'd always hoped she could be. Well, toss my salad and call me Caesar....it's a whole new world. I almost don't know whether to raise a flag or bake a cake. For now I'll do neither...it's too soon....I need time.

I find myself squirming inside. I so want to believe this woman has changed but I find myself doubting, questioning and looking for the 'old' mother to appear and snatch away the goodness as quickly as it appeared. I guess reasonable boundaries are okay but I am mindfully trying to remain optimistic, open, and compassionate.

The simplest of words blow me away. Do you know she remembers my favorite color? She even remembers what foods I liked when I was a baby. Information I'd thought she'd long forgotten as she'd never told me before.

Heck, I never knew what her favorite anything was...but I'm beginning to learn now. She likes black and red. Pork chops over steak and yes, beets but they must be pickled. She loves country and western music and dance. Even loves the ocean as much as I do. Perhaps this sounds trivial to some, but imagine not knowing for 40 plus years and then one day being allowed close enough to gather the information. Mind-blowing really.

I only spent the first 2 1/2 years of my life with her...then at 17, I spent about ten years knocking heads with her, just trying to make us fit into each other's lives....or more accurately, into each other's expectations of who we should be. It didn't work. If anything, it only accentuated the pain we both (yes today I can say 'both') felt. Then it was only a quick hello and expected check-in holiday visits once every four or five years...until I totally gave up in March of 1997.

Suffice it to say, I am both excited and scared to death. I've placed up boundaries as protection but I'm remaining open to tearing them down. After all, there's a little kid inside of me who is so afraid of being crushed again...but she too is breathing life into the possibilities of a brighter future. One conversation at a time.

My mother is gifted when it comes to crafts. I'd always wanted her to make me something....now, get this, she did! She made me a decorative tree- not a Christmas tree- but a table top center peice with lights and decorations. She's bringing it to lunch so I can take it home with me. Can't wait to see it. Between you and me, she could have drawn the smallest of things...let's say a mouse...on a scrap piece of paper, handed it to me, and I'd treasure it because for that second or two she was thinking enough of me to create the drawing. Instead, she took an hour or two and made something really nice. I'm touched.

In closing, I don't know where I'm headed with this journey of rediscovery, but for now it's pork chops and pickled beets....and maybe a mindful hug or two.

Here's wishing you all a day of restoration...where something hurtful can be resolved and healed. Have a happy today!

hugs :o)

Luck and Justice

Some people seem to have all the luck. They step in yards of animal feces and walk out smelling of lilacs in springtime.
Take my son for example. Last year he was driving home from work around midnight. His car shaking from the music ricocheting off its walls. Its roar pleading for a new muffler. Three houses before home, blue lights. A state trooper pulled him over. "License and registration."
Now I know what you are thinking. How is this scenario lucky? Well, check it out:
Months before he'd gotten a speeding ticket. We sent in a money order and paid the fine. Well, as the officer was running his name and social security number, the ticket comes up unpaid ...and his license? Suspended. As the officer was relaying his findings to my son, I was on the other end of his cell phone listening. My mouth hit the floor and I struggled off the couch to find my car keys anticipating the 83 mile to my son's rescue. I mean, there was enough duct tape, super glue and coat hangers holding his exhaust system together to keep a grade school art class busy for a month...not to mention the blaring rap music that had become synonymous with the act of driving, no matter what time of day (or night in this case) it was.
What came next was typical for my son: "I can tell you're a good kid. Going to school...working...and I believe you did pay your ticket. Young man, take your car home, park it and square away your ticket. Get that muffler fixed too before you drive this car again...by a mechanic. It would do you well to keep your music turned down too. Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Okay, have a good night."
Now do you see what I mean?! Of course I don't wish my son any harm...but why, after stepping in poop, coming out smelling like a floral bouquet, do I have to hear: "Why does everything happen to me?" ....
What in criminey happened to him?! He got to drive his car home, pay day was the next day, his car got fixed and life went on...oh yeah, they also corrected the books about his ticket with no problem the very next day.....
If that had been me...the next words from the officer's mouth would have been: "Ma'am, please get out and step to the back of the car." followed by a *snap* as the metal restraining bracelets were fit tight enough to cut off circulation. A trip to jail, a bail posted, a court date appearance the next morning, an impound fee, and a tow truck bill to bring my car home would have been the beginning of a very long dilemma. Heck, even after they discovered my ticket had been paid, I bet the judge would have issued a fine for faulty equipment and disturbing the peace. Then, if I made the mistake of asking, "Why does everything happen to me?" within ten feet of my son's hearing range...he'd look at me and laugh!
Where's the justice?! lol
Oh wait, let me answer that! One day my son will have children of his own...it'll be his turn to step in poop, ask "Why does everything happen to me?" in front of Junior, only to be answered with, you got it, laughter!
Yeah, now there's justice!

*****
On a separate note, my son did have a car accident last week. He hit some black ice, lost control, drove up a four/five foot snowbank, airborne he took out a fire hydrant when the car landed. He's okay- granted, that morning very shaken up, but thankfully, nothing more. His car? Well, the last estimate was almost 2000 dollars to fix....and all he can say is....."Why does everything happen to me?" .........go figure!