I did switch gears on the drive home on Friday.
Momma.
Why is that such a complicated relationship? Complicated but really quite simple, cliched really. Some mothers and daughters have circled around each other warily for all of known history. Some of them. Not all. I don't want to go into any of the details of my relationship with my mother. The mother of my brothers. How she became who she is ... I do not know. She is mercurial, multi- faceted, predictable in her unhappiness ... Unpredictable in how that may be acted out. As a child I felt responsible ... If I tried just a little harder ... Smiled better, walked slower, smelled sweeter ... All the good "ers". I tried. I really think I did. And then I gave up. I call her once a month. It is enough for her ... it's all she wants from me. She talks about whatever she thinks of and I say uh huh ... yes mam ... little sounds that let her know someone is on the other end of the line. She sometimes asks me about my children whose names she either doesn't remember, or doesn't like ... she asks me questions about them that have nothing to do with their interests and she never fails to comment on how fast they have grown up and how little she has seen of them ... left unsaid, but understood, that is my fault. "Why do you always blame me Momma?" I asked her twenty years ago. She surprised me by answering ... "Because you are here." In that moment, my childhood began to make sense.
I am grateful that my one living brother totally "gets" her. He is firm yet tender towards her. She listens to him as she has never been able to listen to anyone else. He can calm her with a raised eyebrow. A shh. A slow shake of his head. Whatever that is, I am so glad for her sake.
"How's Momma?" I asked. He was waiting to hear about the biopsies. She says she is fine he told me and she pretends or maybe is unaware that there may be more to this. We may have the results on Monday ... or it may be later. She usually seems sharp, argumentative, abrasive, when I talk to her. He gets the vague and unsure version. She seems almost childlike - as she always has. He has decided that it is time to move her closer to where he lives. We have talked about this for years. Now it's time.
I feel sad. I really feel like I have failed and time for anything different has run out ... at the same time I feel that what I would see as a successful connection is simply not possible and I am happy that it is possible for me to just make the connection that works for her without ruining it hoping for more. I wasn't the daughter she dreamed of. She is not the mother I would wish for. There is no animosity, it is what it is. That's the best I can hope for. I can help my brother ... that's the best way I can show my love for her.