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[personal profile] rosaw
I've been stunningly busy lately. Between trying to have some kind of personal relationships and teaching at two institutions, I feel like I am constantly either 1) in traffic going from home to school or back or 2) saying something I wish I hadn't in class or to someone I love.

Tomorrow is my mom's birthday. Or was my mom's birthday? I don't really know which verb tense is appropriate there. I have a friend who writes something wonderful every year for her mom but I didn't have that kind of relationship with my mom or those kinds of memories. I'm just not sure what do to. Which isn't so different from last year at this time, when my present to her was, as usual, going to be late. Then I couldn't decide whether to call to say "hey, late again. Sorry" or not. Despite all those awkward feelings (and every feeling I have had about my parents in my adult life was awkward) talking to her (or not) was an option. In ways I never believed, I have compassion for religious believers. Because this is one of those times when comfort is all cold.

Puts me in a mood that I don't really know very well or understand. And while I guess that what life is about on some level, on another level, I'm just damned tired. And apparently only able to post in my journal when I'm in this mood. I'm off to watch a little tv and relax.

Date: 2003-04-17 08:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] parlance.livejournal.com
{{{Rosa}}} I understand what you are saying since I know the other friend you mentioned and wish I could be half as eloquent when birthdays roll around.

I hope to see you Saturday.

Date: 2003-04-18 01:49 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] yonmei.livejournal.com
I don't know what to say except sympathy. I have an awkward relationship with my mum, too.

Date: 2003-04-18 02:07 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] helenraven.livejournal.com
Thinking of you. Hoping you did find some way to relax.

I can't think of a single helpful thing to say

Date: 2003-04-18 10:54 am (UTC)
ext_1332: (Default)
From: [identity profile] sherrold.livejournal.com
I did recently read a poem called Upon My Mother's Death. Her (the poet's) circumstances couldn't have been more different from yours, but one stanza of the poem struck me as appropriate

...instantly I knew
and also didn't, as I do
and do not even now
where she had gone,
precipitously, leaving me alone
to telephone
and do whatever else had to be done."

I wish we could help more.
Thinking of you,
Sandy

Date: 2003-04-19 07:29 am (UTC)
ext_8908: Flapping crane (Default)
From: [identity profile] bientot.livejournal.com
Persistently working my way back through the posts trying to catch up...and glad I persisted. You're in my heart. I can't know how you feel, but what you say sounds so familiar! I spent several years catching myself thinking, 'Have to remember that one--I can use it as filler next time I talk to her...oh....', and I'm always aware of her birthday. She's still a regular participant in my dreams, and it's been over 20 years now. We never got along, and in my dreams she's still critical and accusatory, but there's that....whatever it is, the mother/daughter thing, that keeps you hanging on. I wish I were close enough to give you a hug. I'm glad your mother was born, because otherwise you wouldn't have been either.

XXOO

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