by Veronica
Veronica, Jr. got an internship in New York City. Yay! She's wrapping up her last week of classes with finals next week. She'll get a few days in Cleveland then her dad will drive her back to NYC. And I will be the proud parent of a woman following her dreams - how lucky am I?!
Growing up, I was one of seven kids - five boys, two girls. My mother told me (and my sister) that she wished she had all boys, she didn't like girls. I know. That's harsh. She was also very close, best friends, in fact, with her mother. She and I just sort of co-existed. When my grandmother died, my mother said, "I hope you and I can be good friends like my mother and I were." I was seventeen at the time and had resigned myself to the fact that there really wasn't any way for us to be "friends." We had some very bumpy times, my mother and I. But you know, I went to therapy, dealt with the crap and moved on. By the end of her days, we had a genuine love for and appreciation of each other.
(When she died I had this amazing dream. I don't know if you're like this, but after someone close to me dies, I always dream about them coming back - not like resurrecting from the dead, but coming back to see me and talk to me. I've lost two brothers along the way and in both cases the dreams have been just social. For example, Terry showed up in a park and we hugged and hugged and then sat on a bench and talked and talked. Such a beautiful dream. So, I wondered what it would be like when my mother came back to me. I've never dreamed anything like this: I'm standing by an open window and a steady breeze blows into the room and it turns into a strong current that begins to solidify and wrap itself around me from head to toe; it undulates around me and courses through me. I'm completely taken over by the force of this wind - I can feel my hair blowing around my head, my breath is caught up and taken away, I am enveloped. This wind, this energy, this is my mother. She is surrounding me, filling me, giving me her energy and life force. In the human world she had multiple sclerosis and was physically incapacitated for the last twenty years of her life. But mentally, she was rock solid. She had so much energy and life, she had so much left that she passed it on to me.)
When Veronica, Jr. came along I was thrilled. I would have the chance to create the relationship with her that I had wanted with my mother. And we are very close. Its a wonderful, trusting relationship that we have worked to develop. We've had our fights, our breakups and makeups. Mostly, though, we've had our laughs. No one makes me laugh like my kid. Here is a prime example of one of our conversations:
Mom: Wow, I can't believe you're going to be 24!
Junior: I know! Me, either! Wait, how old are you going to be?
Mom: 48. Let's not talk about it.
Junior: Oh - wait, is every kid half the age of their parents?
Mom: (thoughtful pause, actually, really considering this question). I don't know. Wait. What? Well, I don't think so - I mean in a year I'll be 49 and 25 isn't half of 49. Right? I mean, when you were 5 I wasn't 10.
Junior: Oh. Right. Ha! Obviously that doesn't work.
Yes - that's a real conversation between the two of us. And we've had so many ridiculous conversations that I truly believe we'd be a hit on Sirius Radio if we'd ever remember to record these things.
The good news is, I won't miss her when she goes to New York. We've learned to live apart from each other and that makes this moment all the sweeter. Our world has grown to encompass the entire planet (thank you Skype and FB!). We are together no matter where we are and for that I am so thankful.
Way to go, Pookie!
Veronica, Jr. got an internship in New York City. Yay! She's wrapping up her last week of classes with finals next week. She'll get a few days in Cleveland then her dad will drive her back to NYC. And I will be the proud parent of a woman following her dreams - how lucky am I?!
Growing up, I was one of seven kids - five boys, two girls. My mother told me (and my sister) that she wished she had all boys, she didn't like girls. I know. That's harsh. She was also very close, best friends, in fact, with her mother. She and I just sort of co-existed. When my grandmother died, my mother said, "I hope you and I can be good friends like my mother and I were." I was seventeen at the time and had resigned myself to the fact that there really wasn't any way for us to be "friends." We had some very bumpy times, my mother and I. But you know, I went to therapy, dealt with the crap and moved on. By the end of her days, we had a genuine love for and appreciation of each other.
(When she died I had this amazing dream. I don't know if you're like this, but after someone close to me dies, I always dream about them coming back - not like resurrecting from the dead, but coming back to see me and talk to me. I've lost two brothers along the way and in both cases the dreams have been just social. For example, Terry showed up in a park and we hugged and hugged and then sat on a bench and talked and talked. Such a beautiful dream. So, I wondered what it would be like when my mother came back to me. I've never dreamed anything like this: I'm standing by an open window and a steady breeze blows into the room and it turns into a strong current that begins to solidify and wrap itself around me from head to toe; it undulates around me and courses through me. I'm completely taken over by the force of this wind - I can feel my hair blowing around my head, my breath is caught up and taken away, I am enveloped. This wind, this energy, this is my mother. She is surrounding me, filling me, giving me her energy and life force. In the human world she had multiple sclerosis and was physically incapacitated for the last twenty years of her life. But mentally, she was rock solid. She had so much energy and life, she had so much left that she passed it on to me.)
When Veronica, Jr. came along I was thrilled. I would have the chance to create the relationship with her that I had wanted with my mother. And we are very close. Its a wonderful, trusting relationship that we have worked to develop. We've had our fights, our breakups and makeups. Mostly, though, we've had our laughs. No one makes me laugh like my kid. Here is a prime example of one of our conversations:
Mom: Wow, I can't believe you're going to be 24!
Junior: I know! Me, either! Wait, how old are you going to be?
Mom: 48. Let's not talk about it.
Junior: Oh - wait, is every kid half the age of their parents?
Mom: (thoughtful pause, actually, really considering this question). I don't know. Wait. What? Well, I don't think so - I mean in a year I'll be 49 and 25 isn't half of 49. Right? I mean, when you were 5 I wasn't 10.
Junior: Oh. Right. Ha! Obviously that doesn't work.
Yes - that's a real conversation between the two of us. And we've had so many ridiculous conversations that I truly believe we'd be a hit on Sirius Radio if we'd ever remember to record these things.
The good news is, I won't miss her when she goes to New York. We've learned to live apart from each other and that makes this moment all the sweeter. Our world has grown to encompass the entire planet (thank you Skype and FB!). We are together no matter where we are and for that I am so thankful.
Way to go, Pookie!
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