I struggle with trying to reconnect with my mother.
There are many times when I have found her comforting and helpful, but when she delivers her scorpion stings, I recoil and am slow to return.
For example; I learned that a friend that had been diagnosed with prostate cancer just learned that they had recurrence. I was devastated by the news and tried to talk to my mother about her. her first comment was “Maybe he should have kept it in his pants.”
… sigh…
I tried to tell her that there was no currently known link between sexual activity and prostate cancer, that it might be a valid argument. It was heartbreaking that she said this. When I approached her about claims made about loose women getting cervical cancer, she denied them… but here was proof that she issued thoughtless commentary at a whim. her denials seemed to be in vain after such a statement.
This past weekend I was struggling and was wishing I felt safe enough to call her and be supported. I did not call, I did not think she would be supportive. I mean it is entirely possible she would have been, but it was not worth the risk, I am working to hard at that staying content or happy thing. So, I never called.
Then, yesterday, she sent this article through an online messenger:
The Family Footsteps We Follow By Frank Bruni (NYT)
I am not sure what her thoughts were in sending it, but this was my comment back to her: “That was fascinating, keeping balance between support and oppression”. There was no follow-up from her.
Blair Necessities 