Last weekend, I gave my momma away. No, I did not leave her by the side of the road with a sign that said, "Free to a good home..." (while that would have been funny...I don't think she would have stood for it...) I literally walked her down the aisle and gave her away to the man waiting at the front. Her Husband.
I'm quite adamant that there are stories that are mine to tell and others that are not. My mommas story is not mine to tell, but suffice it to say, she is enjoying her honeymoon on a Caribbean Cruise. I was given the opportunity to give a toast at her reception, but I knew I'd cry - and they wouldn't be tears of joy, but tears of sadness. I thought that was really very selfish of me, so I didn't say anything. But this is my safe place, and it's all about me here, so I'll say it because it will be therapeutic to get these thought out of my head, as they just circle around and around. I have a tendency to dwell on things a little more than healthy...
There was a time, a good long time ago when I was angry with my mom. I've never said it to her face, but I'm sure she knew. I'm not going to rehash the events, but I tell you only as a testament as to how far a seemingly broken relationship can come once healed.
Growing up, I always had a really good, healthy Mother-Daughter relationship with my mom. What I mean by that is I was the child, she was the adult. We were not friends. I had boundaries (but no curfew! She would just say, "I can't sleep until you come home." I would come home early, so she could get a good night's rest - I'm thoughtful like that!!). There were rules and a bed time. There were consequences for bad behavior. There were treats and cuddles and traditions and family road trips. I had a really good childhood. No complaints. Good memories. It's all good.
As I grew up, though, our relationship grew and matured to the point where we became friends. The distinction between mother and daughter kind of blurred, and a genuine friendship grew. Two and a half years ago, we even moved in together. With her single, and me single - it just seemed like the right thing to do. Make no mistake, I wasn't moving in with my *mom* so she could do my laundry. There was no, "Mom!!!!!! What's for dinner???" or "Where did you put my shoes when you cleaned the house????" We did not live together so she could look after Q. We did not live together so I could support her knitting habit. We just genuinely enjoyed each other's company.
So this past weekend, I not only gave away my momma, I gave away my friend. For the past two and a half years, my momma has been my *significant other*. She has been the person I went home to. The person I told about my day. I shared with her my hopes, my worries, my bumps and my bruises. And she did the same with me. My momma is probably the most non-judgemental person in my life. This is an awesome balance for me because I am so incredibly hard on myself. I beat myself up over things that should be long forgotten and my momma reminds me to let it go. She loves me and my son without question. It's always been amusing how well we know each other, and can easily finish each other's sentence and sometimes say the EXACT same thing at the EXACT same time with the EXACT same tone of voice. We watched Coronation Street together. We laughed together. I would help her find her lost keys and her purse and her credit card. Hahaha, and then she would have to turn around and do the same for me. At her reception, it was good for me to see just how many people love my momma, because she is not just gracious and loving and kind with me, but with others too.
It hit me just how sad I was when I went to get the groceries and was buying for two instead of three. Also, sleeping with my bedroom door open is very strange, but it is no longer necessary to close it. There is no one around to wake me from my slumber.
While I am very, very sad that I lost my companion, I am also very, very happy that she found someone who loves and accepts her unconditionally and offers her a life I (very obviously...hahaha) could not. And a little piece of me is looking forward to what is in store for me. Often times, the best experiences of my life have come when I've been pushed outside of my comfort zone. It's given me the opportunity to grow into the person I've become.
Who knows...maybe I'll find my husband.
But I think then I'd have to work on my "Hey, how you doin'?" And I think I've forgotten how...