Conversations with Mother... Volume 1 Chapter 1

Unlike most adult women my age that I know, I speak to my Mother once a day, at the very least 4 times a week. Some think that is a bit much, and they might be right. But I cherish these conversations, even when I don't enjoy them, even when she upsets me. Because I know how lucky I am to have my Mother living, cogent and engaged. I try to get something out of each of our interactions and hold on to it, because I know I will need it, right now.. or someday.

I talk to my Sister just as often. During many of our conversations, we'll gauge the current emotional temperature of our Mother, and whether we should group call. make individual calls or simply remain silent and let whatever flaming embers there are, cool before making contact. We keep each other safe that way.

Today I called Mom because it had been a couple of days since I talked to her, and I just don't to let too many days go by. Today we chatted about a number of things. What I love about these conversations is that sometimes I get pieces of her history that she seldom shares, but come out as she relates a current story.

She told me about going out to dinner with Dean, Dean's ex husband, and their two daughters. All of them are somehow related to us, but I have never figured out that bloodline.
Dean is a long time family friend who divorced her husband a few years ago with the encouragement of her then boyfriend. That boyfriend dumped her directly after her divorce was final. Dean, however, still participates in family activities involving her ex and their friends. Never mind that her ex husband now has a steady girlfriend. Do I hear "Jerry Springer"?

This particular dinner was in celebration of the birthday of the Ex. The time came to order drinks and Ms. Dean ordered wine, telling the waitress that it was for her and her two daughters only. Those are the only glasses the waitress should pour. My Mother was appalled mostly because she has always been so generous with these friends. She immediately copped her oh-so-sidity persona...literally turned her back to Dean as the waitress poured wine in my Mothers glass anyway. "Can you believe that?" my Mother asked me. I said yes. Didn't she remember all the times before when this woman dismissed her in an unfriendly manner only to come later bearing gifts and telling stories of her latest family situation..? "Yes, you are right." Mom says. Then she tells me the following story solidifying that this woman really has never been her friend as she ponders why she's retained her as a "friend". She began......

Your father and I went to a dance on New Year's Eve with Dean and Will (her then husband), and another couple. At one point in the during dinner, close to midnight, they all left and went to a back room where they stayed for quite some time. I was left at the table alone wondering what the heck was going on. Some nice man comes over and asks if he can sit with me until my group came back. He said that he hated to see a beautiful woman sitting alone. I agreed, figuring your father would be back soon, and I told this fellow that my husband should be returning. He said your father should have never left. So he sat and we just chatted. I think he said he was there with some friends of his. Who knows. Right before midnight, he gets up to leave and gives me a kiss on the cheek, which I thought was just sweet. All of a sudden I hear that loud and obvious voice of Dean. She yelled across the room "She kissed him! She just kissed that man!". I was horrified! I could not believe she did that. Your Father just went with it, did not ask me what happened or anything. Just grabbed me by the arm, hustled me outside and called me a slut.
(This my Mother said is another story about my father that I need to know. She'll save it for another time).

I tell my Mom that she should have never spoken to Dean again, what kind of friend would do some craziness like that anyway. She agreed, but said Dean showed up a few weeks later bearing gifts and apologies, saying she did not know what got into her. Like the pattern of an abusive husband this "friend" ebbs in and out of her life, repeating this pattern to this day.
Today, she thinks is the last time. I am not so sure. But what I am sure of is that this woman should know better.

Mother's advice to me in this conversation is to really evaluate my friendships. Determine if people who call themselves friends, actually have my best interest at heart. Look at what they do... I agree and tell her that I indeed do pay attention. "Good" she says. "You know I pray for you ever night, but you have to do your part too".

Yes Mom.. I know. And keep praying for me. I think it may be working....