microbie

The fog blanketing the roads when I went shopping earlier this evening should have been a sign that my luck changed. My mom called twice while I was out, and I eventually gave in and called her back. The cousin and her family aren't coming Saturday after all, so there's plenty of room to stay at Mom's house. What happened? I asked. Change of plans- that's all she would say.

I don't know, but I suspect. I suspect she told her cousin, recently recovered from a bout with cancer, not to bring her husband, recently diagnosed with cancer, and daughter to San Antonio to celebrate their wedding anniversary.

"You're the most important," she said. It sounded like a threat. I was so surprised and unhappy that I couldn't find the voice to say, "the time for me to be 'the most important' ended about 15 years ago."

I remember a conversation we had a couple of years ago. My mom dislikes me saying that she doesn't like to cook. "I like to cook," she protests, "I just didn't like having to cook. Now that I don't have to cook for anybody, I don't mind so much."

That explanation applies to the rest of her parenting, too. She's happy to be a mom as long as I don't need one. Thanks for worrying about me, Mom, but I'm 32. Try worrying about something relevant, like whether your son is abusing his daughter.

My therapist says my self-esteem won't get better until I work through this anger. Obviously she's not losing me as a client any time soon.