An interesting discovery came up when I was talking to my therapist. He and I kept having mass confusion, until we sorted it out, and I realized that my definitions are a bit wonky.

Basically, when I refer to my family, I am talking about my mother, sister and I. Not my dad or anyone else. It is my mother's defintion, this description of family, and it is one that is almost like a sacred code with my sister and I. The nuclear family in our household are the three women that bonded together to survive some pretty horrible circumstances in our early lives.

My father is not included in that defintion. But nor is he any longer such an outcast.

And I realize it must be hard for the men in our lives. My stepfather, married to my mom for over 11 years now, is not technically part of this definition. Neither are the men in my sister's or my lives. My Grandmother (mother's mother) is more a peripheral part of the family definition. Now, we don't go out of our way to exclude the men or make them feel bad, they are just...seperate. Not part of the war veterans that is the family's early years, they're foot soldiers that came along after the big battles were done to help with the small skirmishes. Or it's like the analogy of the mother lion protecting her cubs, and killing aything that comes near them. And even though the cubs have grown and have dens of their own, it doesn't make it any less feral a situation.

The women in my family are known for many things. We can be moody. We don't talk about our problems. We are ferocious readers and love to laugh. John Denver and the Muppets are the Christma Bible. We are subject to depression. I am perhaps the only one that is too stridently, in-your-face independent, but that's not a characteristic to boast over.

All the women in my family also have one unique feature about us-give us pain medication and we hallucinate like mad. My grandmother had some tests done last night, and she came back from the hospital hyped up on painkillers and muscla relaxers and screaming with laughter. It was hilarious to see her in such a good mood, and we then started comparing notes. Apparently, I am the winner of the hallucination prize as once I thought I was in 7-11 with a reindeer trying to buy beef jerky, and all I kept saying was "Oh thank heaven for 7-11!"

Last night Sister and I got on better than we have in a long time. It's weird-sometimes I think that they see this blog and we all start thinking or something, I don't know. My mother relaxed enough to let me help her take care of the house-she's running ragged taking care of my ill grandmother, and my stepfather just had surgery for a detached retina, so he is basically blind and needs taking care of, too. I think my mother has this attitude of "I can take care of it, I can take care of anything". And I understand and recognize that feeling, since I have it too. But the truth is, none of us can handle everything, and at the end of the day if I do all the laundry, no one for one second will think she dropped the ball.

My God, I think that woman can carry a fucking boulder, not once would I think she dropped the ball.

This morning as she headed to take my grandmother to yet another doctor, she stopped and asked if maybe just she and I could do lunch. She looked tired but pretty in a pale pink sweater, her eyes searching mine to see if I liked that idea. And I felt a big smile on my face and I replied that I would love that. And she hugged me and I smelt the familiar green tea scent and the softness of her cheek, and I knew that sometimes grown/up lionnesses still need to venture back home to mom, for a cup of reassurance.

-H.

PS-I love Oda Mae's suggestion of getting drunk with my sister, so I am buying a few bottles of wine to do so now. And if that fails, Jennifer, Ilyka, and Mitzi-brace yourselves, darlings!

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 03:52 PM | Comments (15) | Add Comment
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