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Fiercely proud and grateful.
A bit of background: a couple of years ago the beloved youngest daughter of my old family friends was kidnapped and murdered. Since then that family has gone through hell.
My Mom lives near the girl's mother, and has been a good friend and solid support to her since then. And I have been a long-distance support to my friend-- pep talking her and encouraging her and being gently stern with her when she feels guilty for saying the wrong thing, reminding her that sometimes there's no way not to.
Had a long talk with my Mom about all this right now. The family's surviving daughter is in crisis. Her mother is at wit's end, and is turning to my Mom for help. More help then is reasonable to ask for, more then my Mom can give. I state this not in blame, but as a fact. Of course she is asking too much - she needs help, and she doesn't have other people to ask.
It's an impossible situation. These three loving, brave, ethical women in a situation that none of them made. Struggling with it, and inevitably hurting each other, my heart goes out to all of them-- but most of all to my Mom. Of course.
Last night, on the phone in my living room, watching the park as the light went out of the sky, I listened to my Mom's confusion and sadness. Describing a really painful conversation, feeling guilty for saying the wrong thing.
And I talked her through it, and calmed her down. Reminded her of what my dear friend Debbie had been reminding me. That there us an arrogance in her feeling guilty- she is ascribing herself power she doesn't actually have. She didn't make this duration, and she can't fix it. She can do what she's doing -- stick around, listen. Say the wrong thing sometimes, because sometimes there is no right thing to say.
I am fiercely proud of my Mom. Doing the right thing, the hard thing, because it needs doing and she's the one there to do it. And I am fiercely proud, and grateful, of myself. That I have some wisdom to offer her.
Last night I was able to give my Mom some hard-earned wisdom, bittersweet comfort, and even make her laugh- all things I gave from my queer life. And I am proud and grateful and humbled too.
When I was a kid I wanted to grow up and be wise. I wanted to get the he'll out of my parents house -- to grow up so I could make my own decisions about how to live - no marriage, no kids, live on my own terms. And i'm doing that. And now I get to take some of that wisdom from my queer life and give it back to my Mom.
It is bittersweet. And it is beautiful.
Sent from my iPhone
My Mom lives near the girl's mother, and has been a good friend and solid support to her since then. And I have been a long-distance support to my friend-- pep talking her and encouraging her and being gently stern with her when she feels guilty for saying the wrong thing, reminding her that sometimes there's no way not to.
Had a long talk with my Mom about all this right now. The family's surviving daughter is in crisis. Her mother is at wit's end, and is turning to my Mom for help. More help then is reasonable to ask for, more then my Mom can give. I state this not in blame, but as a fact. Of course she is asking too much - she needs help, and she doesn't have other people to ask.
It's an impossible situation. These three loving, brave, ethical women in a situation that none of them made. Struggling with it, and inevitably hurting each other, my heart goes out to all of them-- but most of all to my Mom. Of course.
Last night, on the phone in my living room, watching the park as the light went out of the sky, I listened to my Mom's confusion and sadness. Describing a really painful conversation, feeling guilty for saying the wrong thing.
And I talked her through it, and calmed her down. Reminded her of what my dear friend Debbie had been reminding me. That there us an arrogance in her feeling guilty- she is ascribing herself power she doesn't actually have. She didn't make this duration, and she can't fix it. She can do what she's doing -- stick around, listen. Say the wrong thing sometimes, because sometimes there is no right thing to say.
I am fiercely proud of my Mom. Doing the right thing, the hard thing, because it needs doing and she's the one there to do it. And I am fiercely proud, and grateful, of myself. That I have some wisdom to offer her.
Last night I was able to give my Mom some hard-earned wisdom, bittersweet comfort, and even make her laugh- all things I gave from my queer life. And I am proud and grateful and humbled too.
When I was a kid I wanted to grow up and be wise. I wanted to get the he'll out of my parents house -- to grow up so I could make my own decisions about how to live - no marriage, no kids, live on my own terms. And i'm doing that. And now I get to take some of that wisdom from my queer life and give it back to my Mom.
It is bittersweet. And it is beautiful.
Sent from my iPhone