I pulled over to hear the painful tale of how my daughter's father had failed her and that now that she was grown...should she bring up past hurts and clear her history with this man who disappointed her time and again.
My heart broke..as it did many times for my only girlchild. How could her dad not realize that putting his girlfriends and wives ahead of his little girl's need for his love would do lasting damage?
Past that...I still had the arrogant chip on my shoulder telling me that at least I was a good mom..in spite of divorcing the man who was never really self aware enough to see the silly things he would do to HIS only daughter..his little peanut.
Coming home to my daughter, Ali surprising me with mowed grass and clean kitchen wasn't the biggest event of my after-work-time today..
When Ali left me in the silence of an almost empty nest, I reviewed our conversation. We love talking..we have a lot in common and a lot not in common but choose to embrace and learn from. I was glad she changed the movie from Pan's Labrynth to a more digestible and easily talked over John Travolta movie instead...
background noise.
I can't type out here in public what truths I admitted to my daughter in what became a vulnerable space of time. It's not like I planned to tell her how I felt about some mothering choices I had made...I just did. I'm not even sure that it was all that appropriate to admit some things to her.
What I noticed..heavy and strong..was that I was not afraid. I felt like even if she judged me...like she had her whole life..and like I judge my own mom..what girls do as they size themselves up against their first primary female relationship...
that I didn't really care.
I have become a more blunt person..saying what's on my mind and in my heart..without censoring myself other than to not be so harsh that I would hurt someone's feelings irreparably.
Ali doesn't lie to me and why should I lie to her? Our questions to each other often probing beyond what is comfortable...I sometimes think I could be more tactful..or maybe embellish so she won't see the tarnished mom...the person I have been in the past and the person I continue to be.
I feel cozy in the space of unconditional love added to my illusion that I have been the best mom I could be..and not really worrying when our relationship shifts from mother/daughter...mentor/mentee..into friends..into her teaching me..her being my guide...her being someone I am not afraid to learn from when our roles reverse.
Ali directed me to her school portfolio website. I told her I would read it when she left..didn't want to spend our face time reading.
I think she forgot that she had already told me of a writing assignment where she expressed the deep sadness she had over losing her beloved cat when I chose to marry someone who was "allergic" to cats.
Even though I knew she was angry about it all...I read her story with new eyes.
Now THIS was the story to call a radio help line about.
I was always one who was disgusted by the mothers whose daughters had told me of their choosing a man over them.
Judging, I am.
I don't even remember feeling sad that Ali had to leave her kitty behind at her ...OUR favorite house.
She either hid her tears..or I was so distracted and in my own sadness that I had to move from this sugarHOUSE to the ghetto rose park house..that I just put her childish tears aside.
What I do remember and what I know now is that most of my kids have deep animal love.
And I do not.
I love other things.
It's easier to love pets now that the space that was filled with child raising is coming to a close...but I have never been cat or dog mom..just allowed my kids to have pets because I wanted to indulge their own passions..even if I didn't share them.
I indulged them a lot over the years..letting them do their own things..even encouraging things just to show I was the cool mom..you want a tattoo? I'll get you a tattoo!
Still not sure about sitting in a place where I could have made some harsh mistakes that leave lasting scars..and wanting to defend my position..and wishing I had it to do over again so I could make the perfect mom choices...
But here I sit. Challenged. Scared. Looking for the lesson in all of this.
Maybe my lesson is to just live more honestly.
Instead of the smug...I am a great mom..especially compared to the shitty dads I've given to my kids...
REMEMBER and KNOW that I made mistakes. I will make mistakes and the best I can do is accept and acknowledge and not hide them behind all my stacks of excuses.
The best practice can be...full disclosure..mourning losses...and getting back on the fucking horse and ride it out until the greener pasture of second, third and fourth chances rise up to meet me where I am,..what I've grown into and where I can go from this lesson.
I remember ever so clearly laying awake all night after giving birth to my Ali...thinking of all the girly things I can now do after being boy mom for the grand total of four years. The journey of my raising a daughter speckled with the proud moments..the frustrating, I give up moments..and mostly the moments when I have been in fucking awe of this woman.
Instead of the competition girls usually bring to their relationships...I notice that I have none. NONE.
If Ali is better than me in anything...I am not threatened.
I remain proud and content.
I think this is a pretty cool place to be and don't want it to go unacknowledged because I believe it to be rare in the mother/daughter/sister/girlfriend scheme of things.
I didn't plan it. I won't even try to take credit for growing our relationship. It just went this way..from all our individual choices and collective love.
It's not what I even need to figure out today...one thing my daughter and I share is our endless analyzing of things.
Ali told me of her desire and love of adoration and praise yesterday. Who admits these things? As she's talking..I'm thinking..ya..I love for people to think I'm amazing..but I am way too cool to admit it..I am not the person who NEEDS that shit..I know who I am and it's enough that I think I am amazing.
Plus I have all these cards and pictures from kids I've worked with...
You know...the kids I've spent these little bits of time with over the years? The kids who I haven't really had a chance to screw it up with...the kids I get paid to mother..
I don't really have a dramatic end to this piece...a way to tie it all together,...
loose ends in the honesty room
Stay tuned.
