I lost my mom to a three-year-old
Let’s talk about my mom. She doesn’t know I have a blog. I think she would get a real kick out of it if she knew. She’d read it, and she’d talk about it to me, and ask me questions, and make fun of me (but in the most loving way possible). But I don’t know if I want that or not. Not because I’d come here and say nasty things about her, but maybe because I want to be able to come here and make fun of her (but in the most loving way possible). Also, the whole sharing how I feel thing? Yeah. Maybe some day. I think she’d enjoy it.
I worked with my mom for almost a year. That ended almost three months ago. Honestly, it was great. I’m not just saying that in case she reads this some day. It was very cohesive. It worked. We didn’t have to really think about what we said in front of our “coworker.” We had time to plan things and discuss things and be caught up. We could have a bad day and not need to be polite. I could say “let me ask my mom.”
When I left my old job location, on Friday, I got all sad in the car. Not because of leaving the location, or the people there, but because that was the place that I’d worked with her, and now it was really over. Now we were both gone. The End.
And I miss that. I feel like I have my best relationships with people when I see them regularly, without needing to plan a lot. All of the little, random conversations happen that way. Over dinner. In the car. While there are no customers. Walking in the blueberries after church. Times like that. So, a little tribute to our time together.
My mom is embracing her grandmotherly side these days. She doesn’t have any grandkids. I’m the oldest. Sorry Mom, no grandkids for you yet. Wait your turn.
She’s starting to find substitutes, like the three-year-old son of my sister’s roommate. We were at my sister’s place on Sunday, Town and I, and you should’ve seen my mom when she came through the front door. She made a beeline for A., presented him with an Easter basket/pail & shovel, and proceeded to drool over him. After a few minutes she looks up and sees Town, Lucy and I. “Oh, hi. Here’s some candy for you guys, too.”
I’ve lost my mother to a three-year-old. He’s pretty cute, though.
I worked with my mom for almost a year. That ended almost three months ago. Honestly, it was great. I’m not just saying that in case she reads this some day. It was very cohesive. It worked. We didn’t have to really think about what we said in front of our “coworker.” We had time to plan things and discuss things and be caught up. We could have a bad day and not need to be polite. I could say “let me ask my mom.”
When I left my old job location, on Friday, I got all sad in the car. Not because of leaving the location, or the people there, but because that was the place that I’d worked with her, and now it was really over. Now we were both gone. The End.
And I miss that. I feel like I have my best relationships with people when I see them regularly, without needing to plan a lot. All of the little, random conversations happen that way. Over dinner. In the car. While there are no customers. Walking in the blueberries after church. Times like that. So, a little tribute to our time together.
My mom is embracing her grandmotherly side these days. She doesn’t have any grandkids. I’m the oldest. Sorry Mom, no grandkids for you yet. Wait your turn.
She’s starting to find substitutes, like the three-year-old son of my sister’s roommate. We were at my sister’s place on Sunday, Town and I, and you should’ve seen my mom when she came through the front door. She made a beeline for A., presented him with an Easter basket/pail & shovel, and proceeded to drool over him. After a few minutes she looks up and sees Town, Lucy and I. “Oh, hi. Here’s some candy for you guys, too.”
I’ve lost my mother to a three-year-old. He’s pretty cute, though.
posted by Jess at 11:36 AM
1 Comments:
Yeah, my mom's like that too. The worst is when I happen to bring a small child to her house. Like, one that belongs to a friend of mine. But there's something about her witnessing me removing a child from a carseat and walking said child up to her door and then being in her house with that child. It makes her want that to happen more. And the most logical way would be for me to have a child of my own. And so then she starts hinting at that. Whatever mom, it's going to be awhile.
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