Last night's supper was delicious. Mr. Moon and Vergil cooked those sweet potatoes and the pork chops and a huge basket of squash and asparagus and onions and red peppers and tomatoes. It felt real righteous.
I think we might go down to the water today. I am not sure. Kayaking has been mentioned. Vergil is already off for a run.
I am glad for a day where my mind seems to be at rest. I think I am processing a lot of things in my sleep and in my dreams. I don't remember last night's dreams and I am glad for that, too. Yesterday was hard, I have to admit. But you know. These things must all be felt, must all be accepted and gone through like the boxes still spread around the house.
A few days ago I was reading the blog of a woman who never comments here so she is not really part of our community but I've been reading her blog for years. She was raised a very Orthodox Jew and I don't even know the terms but her parents are INTO it. She pulled away from the restrictions and the religion as she got older and married a non-Jew and it's only now, years later, that her parents have started communicating with her. She and her husband are expecting their first child and her father seems to be very interested and they send e-mails back and forth but her mother has remained mostly silent which is, of course, incredibly hurtful. That her mother would remain in her judgement and anger about her daughter's leaving the religion rather than accept and love her for who she truly is, especially now, as she is pregnant. And on her latest posting, this woman spoke of the possibility of her mother being a narcissistic mother and mentioned a check-list of characteristics which might indicate such a thing and so I started Googling and before I knew it, my mind was blown apart.
Some of the sites I went to were like a biography of my mother's and my relationship and it explains so much, even the way each of my mother's children perceived her so differently. But for some reason, I am hesitant about all of this. I guess because like I said yesterday, Mother is gone now and there is no way to defend herself.
On the other hand, she is gone now and can't possibly care.
And why do I even bother to share this?
Quite frankly because I wish I had known about this syndrome, condition, illness thirty years ago so that I would not have spent so much of my life trying to please my mother when it was frankly, impossible. Spending so much of my whole life feeling as if I could never please her due to some deficit in myself. And so forth.
Well, there. I've told you. If you have a very difficult time with your mother, go ahead and start Googling. There are sites, there are books. There are, I am sure, therapists. My own therapist, years ago, may have mentioned this and perhaps I wasn't ready to hear it. I was dealing with childhood sexual abuse, the results of which were tearing me apart at that time. There are so many layers to the stinking onion of dysfunctional families and what family isn't dysfunctional to some degree?
Still. There are levels of dysfunction that can fuck you up for life and there are some which are merely amusing and there are some which are somewhere inbetween and each of us has our own.
But it's a beautiful Sunday morning and Jessie and I are making pancakes (yes, we do love to eat around here) and here is a picture of that activity and also from yesterday's snake roundup in Whigham.
Families. When they're good, they are so damn good.
Happy Sunday, y'all.