Mothers and daughters 2

I took Friday afternoon off work and went to pick her up.  My insides were a pit of nausea and anxiety.  She looked much the same, but her voice had changed, much deeper and raspier than before, but she has been a smoker most of her life, so I guess it’s to be expected.  She got in the car and we headed to my place.  We chatted, mostly small talk about her trip.  Neither of us too sure of how to act.  We hadn’t seen each other in over 5 years, and before that visit was another five.  A lot had changed.

We got to the apartment and my BF had made lunch, so cute.  Clearly trying to impress his mother in law whom he had never met.  She was duly impressed.  We ate and then headed to my hometown, to see my dad’s family, none of whom she had seen in almost 15 years.  I hadn’t warned anyone other than my one cousin, I figured I may as well have fun with this, see the look on people’s faces.

They were all completely dumbfounded, seeing me with my mom in their town was probably the last thing they expected short of a zombie apocalypse.  The last stop before going home was to see my dad.  And this I dreaded more than anything.  They had both expressed a desire to see each other, for curiosity or old time’s sake, who knows.  All I knew was that having my parents in the same room was never a happy memory for me, and the last time my mom punched my dad.  Despite everyone’s assurances that they had grown up since then and water under the bridge yadda yadda, all I could see in my head was essentially a parental cage fight with some passerby yelling « finish him! »

Surprisingly, it went well, they talked about old times, about how foolish they had been, and how proud they are of me.  This was the first time I could remember seeing my parents smile while in the same room.  I took pictures to prove the event really happened.

Then we went back to my place for a quiet night.  I barely slept.  The next day she met the kids, we all had fun, and because the kids are awesome, she fell in love with them.  When the kids left we took her out for dinner.  Then another quiet night in.

She talked openly and honestly about her family, my childhood, and her life.  It was refreshing.  My BF would later tell me that he had always had a small lingering part of him that wondered if my childhood and family was a messed up and weird as I said it was (which is natural given that his ex is well known for her talents of exaggeration) but that having my mom there, saying all the same things was a relief, sort of.  On the one hand he was relieved that I had not overly exaggerated, but on the other hand, holy crap was my childhood screwed up lol!

On Sunday, when it was time to take her to the station, I was relieved that it had gone so well.  I was happy to honestly tell her that we would do it again.  Things had ever been so close to normal between us.  I watched her get back on the bus, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I felt hope for us.