Saturday, December 6, 2008

. . . had a fight




with my mom on the phone just a few minutes ago. I feel like a fool. . . why would I fight with my 81-year-old mother? I don't do it often, but about once or twice a year all the pent-up frustration comes spewing out and I make an idiot of myself. I yelled at her on the phone, for crying out loud. How stupid of me.


Adjectives to describe my mom (at least this morning): unhappy. . . suspicious. . . passive-aggressive. . . guilt-inducing. . . entitled. . . My sisters (who read this blog) and my sisters-in-law (who don't) can probably add a few more. We are all subject to her dysfunctions at one time or another. The only person who does not suffer her wrath is my daughter, Stef. . . we call Stef the daughter my mother never had (although she has three.)


If my mother wasn't my mother, I don't think I could be friends with her. And the sorry thing is I can't be friends with her now. . . she doesn't want that kind of relationship with any of us. She wants to be revered. She compares us to the children of her friends and we always come up short. I personally would like to know what makes that woman tick, what forces shaped her into the person she is today. I understand some of them and I really try to see things from her perspective usually. But I don't think children ever have a complete picture of their parents.


Anyway, I've let off some steam. Of course, nothing is resolved and I feel really awful about the whole incident and I'm sure she's sitting at home stewing about it, too, but she doesn't want to talk about it any more, so once again, we sweep everything under the rug and pretend everything is fine and dandy, only of course we know it isn't. Aren't I too old to have this problem? I sound like I did in high school.

8 comments:

Leslie said...

You sound human. So very human.

Catherine said...

I suspect your mother has always been this way so it's unlikely she'll change no matter how old...doesn't make it any easier to deal with..and age or illness always makes the guilt worse...at least it did for me.

I hope you'll do something fun and crazy tomorrow...just for you.

Anonymous said...

Take comfort in the fact that countless other daughters share your experience and feeling every day, no matter their age.

I'm a fairly new visitor to your blog and I enjoy your art and your words. The fun you have creating really shows and I appreciate your willingness to share your ideas, experiments and successes. They've sparked ideas of my own and, for that, I thank you.

peggy

Mary Buek said...

Leslie: Oh, I am human, all right. Way too human.

Catherine: You are exactly right, she always has been this way. I do feel guilt, because I know she won't be with us forever, so I should make the time left better for both of us. But damn, she can be so aggravating.

Peggy: I'm so glad you commented. Welcome to the blog. I do have fun and I appreciate your words of wisdom about moms. My husband once told me some people are put on earth to be bad examples. . . examples of how not to behave. I don't think I piss off my daughter, but who knows, right?

Karen said...

You are not alone! I often feel like, why in the hell am I behaving like I did 20-odd years ago? What is wrong with me? after a particularly difficult encounter with my Mom. But then I step away to breathe, and try to canter myself with my work.
Which it seems like you're totally right on in this image!

Mary Buek said...

Hi, Karen: I visited your blog and you make such great paintings. Thank you for stopping by this blog and leaving a comment. Actually, part of the argument with my mom was that she doesn't think I do "work" as in going to an office and doing something, like I used to. And maybe I feel a bit guilty about that, too, in these tough economic times, so I may have over-reacted. Centering myself in my "work" seems to help.

Karen said...

Thanks for coming by my blog! I look forward to your return...

So many of the women I go out and paint with, of course including myself, we all suffer that same "guilt". It makes me mad that it's there. A teacher I had recently told this story about how when she went to painting full time, when she couldn't take it anymore, she just got up on a Monday morning, packed up her painting gear and said to her husband, 'I'm going to work now...I'm going to my new job' and went out to paint. How wonderful is that?! I try, often unsuccessfully, to maintain that mindset. But, we try!

Mary Buek said...

Karen, it's wonderful that you have a group of woman that share your passion for art. I have found my art to be kind of solitary. . . not lonely, just something done alone. It fits with my hermit tendancies.