The Working Girl Blog #24: Mother's Day, or Another humdrum mother's day dinner with the folks, in other words, it was a wonderful day To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I went to my mom n dad's this Sunday, for Mother's day, and it was just a normal Mother's day. Nice lunch, regular, light family talk. The expected mother's day gifts. Cake and coffee, and then home. Very boring. Very routine. In other words, it was wonderful.

When I started this journey of mine, I was "abandoned" by those I thought would support me, mostly friends, as I didn't tell family until after. The most painful of these "defections" was the one f my ex. She knew how it was for me, and told me that we would be together, even afterwards. But, I guess, when I went through my RLT and eventual transition, it was too much for her and we parted ways ( http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/17208/turning-away-hai... ). Being the coward that I was, I didn't tell the family until after it was done. Those two long years I lived avoiding my family. And the only time I let them know was afterwards. It was a shock for everyone, to say the least, although they probably thought, in hindsight, it was totally possible, even reasonable.

Getting to the point of where I am now was a long and trying passive-aggressive kind of war full of tears, of arguing, of shouting, of lonely nights alone with my pillow instead of my mom to hug, but I am at that point where I can now visit, I can hug and be hugged. It's almost normal now.

And this Sunday, I went home for Mother's Day.

I brought a coffee cake from the bakery near the house that my mom likes, plus a nice off-white cable-knit sweater as my Mother's Day gift. (The cool thing is that it's also in my size so I can borrow it, too, heehee).

And it was a pleasant visit. Nothing fancy - just a sit-down dinner, coffee-and-cake. Lots of small talk (I told them all about my new job plus I showed some pics from work, which I had in my netbook).

During coffee-n-cake and during dinner, my sister sat by me, and looked at me rather intensely (something that she does from time to time, now, ever since the stroke last October. Marvin sez she's like that when she's trying to connect the names of people and things, or is trying to say something that she's having a hard time to put in words). All she ended up saying was "Hi," and "I like your top," and then she hugged me, and Ricky did his old little trick of squeezing his head between us (Ricky's the family dog).

After dinner, out of curiosity, I went upstairs to my old room, and it was like a time warp. My stuff, over seven years old, were all still there, in their old places, neatened up, of course, and everything where they were supposed to be. In the tiny closet were some of my old boy-clothes, freshly laundered by the smell, and by the bed were my old Squier 3/4 Fender Stratocaster and the Cyclone mini-amp.

I asked if I could bring my guitar home to my apartment, but my mom didn't look happy about that. So I just said if I can borrow it from time to time. She gave me a hug. I didn't understand that until a littler later.

Mom and Dad gave me and my sister hugs, and Dad shook Marvin's hand as I went home, and sis and her husband took their little rental car to their motel. (I knew they were in town because of Marvin's business and would be flying back to California the following day. It was nice of them to schedule it for this weekend.) Mom said we can all visit anytime.

It was the most wonderful day in a long time, simply because of its normality. Since my change, I had despaired of having anything normal. Today was normal, so very, unspectacularly normal, and I was so happy I was a little teary-eyed.

As I was driving home, while stopped at a red light, I saw a mom carrying a little girl. The girl was big, but small enough to still be carried, and the mom had her in her arms. I looked into the mother's face, at the gentle contentment, at how she held her baby. And I came to a little epiphany.

I have always whined about my problems, and how badly I want to be normal, to fit in. But one thing I rarely think about is how all this affects my family. Mom and Dad, even sis, missed me. And I wondered how this all affected them. They missed me. Despite who and what I was, they loved me and missed me.

Now I understand about the guitar thing. Maybe I'll come visit more often.

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot