Is moving away on Saturday. If you don’t like personal stories, hit your back button now- this is gonna get mushy.
My own mother and I don’t get along at all- she was (and sometimes still is) extremely emtionally abusive to me. Not a nice person. I grew up bitter and angry- an attitude that carried through to adulthood. After much work on my part, I’ve been able to move on and become the nice person I knew I could be.
Enter friend. We were co-workers and discovered we lived just 4 miles away from each other, prompting us to carpool. We shared many stories on the way to and from work, worked on problems, and just enjoyed each others company. She is in her late 40’s, I’m in my late 20’s. She became a close friend and definate mother figure to me.
She convinced me that I was worth loving as a friend and a daughter- that my own mother was wrong and she was right. She was proud of my accomplishments no matter how trivial.
I in turn became the daughter she never had. We shop together, she taught me to cook and keep house (she’s very talanted at entertaining and decorating- I was not). She encouraged me to cook my first Thanksgiving dinner for my family and called me several times that day to check on my progress and help.
We spent many, many mornings chatting over tea at her house, eating homemade biscotti and enjoying the peace of each others company. On mothers day last year, I gave her a card that said “If I ever could have picked a Mom, it would have been you. I’m so glad I have you as a friend”
In October she broke her ankle, and I spent several months bringing her to the doctor, the grocery store, shopping and out to the movies. And I was damned glad to be able to do it.
We’ve laughed, we’ve cried, we’ve shared so much- now she’s leaving.
Saturday morning the moving van is coming and it’s all going to change. I’m trying to be strong about it (for her) but I’m having trouble stopping the tears. I’ve never been this close to another person in my life, and all I want to know is who the hell is going to stop over and ask how my special dinner came out- or help me pick out new curtains. Or just plain give a shit about my mundane life?
Sorry if I depressed anyone- where the hell are those kleenex?
Zette
Reminds me of the Sting song “I’m So Happy That I Can’t Stop Crying”
Love is like popsicles…you get too much you get too high.
Not enough and you’re gonna die…
Click here for some GOOD news for a change Zettecity