22. What a Load of Hooey

What a Load of Hooey

M ara

Tuesday morning, I was still riding the high from the weekend. Olivia and I were overdue for a visit to my mom. I didn’t want to go yesterday in case she burst my happy bubble, but it would be unwise to delay it any longer.

I took care with my outfit, wearing new jeans and a cranberry V-neck sweater Willa had picked out for me. I picked up half a dozen vanilla dip donuts, and a Tim Horton’s coffee for my mom, hoping to minimize myself as a target for her criticism. I didn’t bring my baking to my mom, she always sent me home with the leftovers.

“Hi, mom!” I called out as Olivia and I opened the front door.

“Hello, my loves!” She called out as she came barreling down the hall toward us.

“Give Gran-Gran a hug, Olivia!” She stood with her arms open, waiting for Olivia to respond. I blinked, then hid my reaction to the change, it was a positive change, but I was careful not to react. Reacting might make her defiant, and I didn’t want that.

Olivia walked into her hug and wrapped her arms around her grandmother. I wondered if maybe my mom could change, adapt to be what Olivia needs. It wouldn’t be bad to have another person in her corner.

She released Olivia and turned to me, tilting her head to offer her cheek for a kiss. “You look good, Mara. I like your outfit.”

“Thanks, mom.” I smiled, feeling warmed by her compliment.

“Come sit down and I’ll make us coffee. You work too hard, you and Zale, both. How was your weekend away?”

“It was great, actually.”

“Good, that makes me happy.” She smiled at me, and I followed her to the kitchen.

“Here, mom, we brought donuts. ”

A shadow passed over her face while she opened the box and peeked inside, her face splitting wide open with a smile. “Oh, my favorite! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” I felt like a trained dog.

Do the right thing and you’ll be praised, step out of line, receive a sharp rap on your tender nose. The resentment bubbled up quickly, but she’d done nothing to earn it this time. She’d only said, ‘thank you,’ and that they were her favorite. I mean, I bought them to please her, she was pleased, mission accomplished, now I was pissed? What was my problem?

I gave myself a mental shake and opened the cupboard to take out the plates.

“You sit down. You’re always coming over here and looking after me. Let me look after you for a change.”

She put her arm around me in a side hug, then turned me, directing me to sit at the table.

“Okay, thanks, Mom.”

She was in a caregiving mood today. Zale wasn’t even here to witness it. No matter, I’d take it!

“Olivia, come and get your donut, my love.”

Olivia came to the kitchen, and my mother asked, “One or two?”

“Two, please. ”

Bea put two donuts on the plate for Olivia and then put one on a plate for herself and one for me, and Olivia went back to her favorite chair and her bag of happiness. Bea came to the table with two plates.

“Not for me, Mom, thanks.”

Her eyebrows rose into her thinning hairline. “Why not? You deserve a treat!”

“No, I’m good, honestly. I’m dying for a coffee, that’s what I want.”

She sat with her donut while the coffee brewed, then looked at me. “It was a good weekend?”

“Amazing.”

“Did you see a show?”

“No, just ate out, shopped, walked along the river, explored the neighborhood.”

“You should try to do it more often. You deserve it. You’re both very good parents, but parents need to take breaks. I always tell my friends what a good mom you are, what a good dad Zale is. Olivia is a very lucky little girl. You know my friend, Abby?”

“Yes. I only met her a couple of times, but I like her.” Abby was a friendly, down to earth, take no shit kind of woman. She was how I imagined Bex would be in thirty years. I wasn’t always sure how she and my mom could be friends, but I was happy for my mom’s sake that they were. I always hoped she’d be a grounding influence for my mom, despite or because of her penchant for mismatched dishes.

“Yes, she’s very good. Picked up milk for me the other day, saved me a trip to the grocery store, and, you know, she makes her own jam in the summer, buys strawberries direct from the farm and shares with all of us. I can’t wait to get some this summer. Anyway, her daughters have caused her no end of worry! One has never been married and lives with another woman! That’s a bit suspicious if you ask me. The other one just got divorced! So sad what it does to the children. I told her you and Zale were away for the weekend, taking time for your marriage and each other. It takes commitment to make a marriage work. Her daughter is a real estate agent, she’s very successful, but working all those odd hours, you know, takes a toll on a marriage. Her son-in-law, well, I don’t know what he does, but I’m sure he didn’t appreciate her work hours. It’s all fine and dandy to be winning awards and getting big bonuses but if you can’t hold your marriage together? Look after your children? It’s hardly worth it.”

“Did Abby say that was the problem?”

Abby had not struck me as the type to speak negatively about her children.

Her face soured. “Last year, Abby told us about this big awards thingy her daughter won. Well, a career isn’t everything, is it! I’m glad you don’t have anything to distract you from Zale and Olivia. ”

That was a back-handed compliment if I’d ever heard one. I sensed her irritation was more about a sense of competition with Abby.

She continued. “Anyway, I advised her to tell them to go to counseling. Marriage is sacred. Divorce is against the church, you know. I don’t think it’s something they should be entering into lightly.”

I empathized with this unknown daughter, maybe Abby was not the understanding, down-to-earth woman I thought she was. “Did Abby tell you her career was the problem?”

“Abby?” She scoffed. “No way! You can’t say anything to her about her kids. She just said it’s not her business to tell them what to do, it’s her business to support them, and help them pick up the pieces when they make mistakes. What a load of hooey! She just doesn’t want us all to know how embarrassed she is by their behavior.”

“Maybe that’s how she really feels.”

Bea stood up to get the coffee, bristling with irritation. “You don’t know her like I do.”

“I don’t know her at all, really.”

“Yes, well, you know what she said to me?” She continued without waiting for an answer. “She told me to stop talking about money, that there are ladies in our seniors’ group who are not as well off and talking about money makes some of them uncomfortable. Like that’s my fault? Is it my fault their husbands didn’t look after them? Is it my fault they can’t go on the day trips we plan? Am I supposed to not want to do anything or go anywhere because they can’t?”

“Why can’t you go, exactly?” I was confused, not understanding why she couldn’t go just because someone else couldn’t.

“The seniors’ group subsidizes a few daytrips a year. I suggested we put all the subsidy money into a week-long cruise. We’d each get at least $300 off the cost! But, no, they voted it down, said it wasn’t fair to put the subsidy toward something where so many couldn’t participate. I mean, really, it’s not like we can’t still do the day trips, or can they not afford that either? For those of us who can afford the cruise, the subsidy might even go up depending on the numbers. Why should we miss out?”

Her lack of sensitivity toward the other ladies astounded me, as well as her complete lack of insight into the same.

“Mom, you can afford to go on a cruise, correct?”

“Of course, I can,” she scoffed.

“So, what’s the problem? Go with the ladies who can go if they’re keen on going.”

“That’s not the point, dear. They dismissed my idea, dismissed it entirely. I think I’m going to run for president of the seniors’ committee.”

Selfishly, I thought this was an excellent idea as it would keep her busy and out of my hair. However, I cringed at the thought of her wielding that power like a sharp stick. I reassured myself that they’d know better than to vote her in.

“Is that something that would be fun for you? Interesting?”

“No.” She released a long-suffering sigh. “But sometimes if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”

Half an hour later Bea finished her second donut, and it was time to go. She did not offer Olivia the leftover donuts this time, happily telling me her plan to eat one after dinner, and the last one tomorrow, for breakfast.

Visits with her, even when I was not the object of her vitriol, made my ears bleed, but I’d done what I’d needed to do, and I wouldn’t have time to visit again until the weekend at the earliest.

Olivia had not been at all fazed by our little getaway, we’d had a good week, we were getting our lessons done, we’d gone swimming, and we had visited Bea. By Thursday she was excited to go to the animal shelter and I had therapy. Zale and I had not had sex since Sunday, and it was starting to be problematic. I thought I might broach the subject with Erin.

We started off talking about my visit with Bea, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Erin pointed out the lack of empathy and referred back to the need to accept the reality of who she is.

“Have you put any thought into boundaries?”

“Well, yes, but I still don’t know how to make her adhere to them. ”

“You can’t make her do anything. The power to change is in the changes you can make for yourself. Boundaries, true boundaries, require consequences, real consequences, which is why it’s important that whatever you decide is a boundary, is actually maintained as a boundary.”

“What do you mean? Explain this to me.” I leaned forward in my chair, trying to understand.

“Well, let’s say you decide that asking Olivia for a kiss is a boundary. Are you prepared to leave next time she does that? If you’re not, it’s not really a boundary.”

“Leaving seems kind of harsh.”

Maybe I didn’t understand what true boundaries required. It seemed I was still going to have to tolerate a lot of behaviors that didn’t warrant a boundary. I didn’t like that thought much. Relationships should be about give and take, there should be mutual respect, not every little request should require a boundary. If it did, I wondered, did we even have a relationship?

“Boundaries mark the borders of what type of treatment we are willing to accept from people. If people treat us in a way that is not tolerable, leaving, for a period of time or for good, is the only option.”

“I think I really need to think about what a boundary for me is.”

“Yes, you don’t have to have all the answers yet, and there are other things we can work on to make you stronger, help you to feel better, like the fact that you are not actually responsible for keeping Bea happy. No one is responsible for keeping anyone else happy. These are personal boundaries. Look into that this week. Tell me what you think. It’s a sharp learning curve, and you’re not going to be able to soak it all in and make changes in only a couple of weeks.”

I wrote ‘personal boundary’ down in the notes on my phone as a reminder to look it up.

“What really bothers me, is not knowing who I am. I find that super distressing.”

“Boundary work will help with that.”

“What else can I do?”

“Mindfulness and meditation help, journaling or artistically expressing yourself helps, spending time alone so you can think helps, taking note of what is important to you helps you to determine your likes, your passions, your values, just as taking note of your dislikes helps.”

“I think I’m going to get a really nice journal. I’ll tell my husband you sent me shopping.”

She laughed. “You do that - just stop at the journal!”

“I can do that. Shopping is not fun for me.”

“I agree…” She shuddered. “The mirrors…”

“I know! No one looks good in that light! ”

“There are two more things I’d like to touch on today, both will help in your quest to better define yourself.”

“I’m game!”

“Good stuff - Name it to tame it is about identifying your emotions. It helps to calm you when you can step back, notice how you are feeling, and label it. Simple as that. Also, taking note of how you feel in certain situations will give you insight into your likes, dislikes, strengths, weaknesses, and values. Paying attention to your feelings will give you valuable information about yourself.”

“Name it to tame it.”

“Yes. As you are doing all this work, and paying attention to your feelings and reactions, you’ll start to know yourself better, and you’ll be able to start identifying a vision for your future, develop a focus for moving forward. Vision and focus will help you to move forward.”

We discussed these new tools, then she asked me the self-harm questions she always asked at the end of each session.

“Thanks, Erin. You’re a peach.”

She laughed and waved me out the door.

Funny, despite the amount of emotional labor required at therapy, I never left there with the level of fatigue a visit to my mom engendered .

Now, home. First to wait for Olivia, then to Girls’ Night tonight at Willa’s place.

Woo hoo!