- Somewhere in all this posting i neglected to record the moment where my mother’s ectopic pregnancy came true. She banished it from memory all her life but we have all lived with it. In the post “Sick Today” i recorded The place where she grabbed at my soul, and the nightswatchman caught me there unprotected alone on the smoking porch late–it was my salvation. I caught the moment and solved it.
The “Post-Victorian Momma” problem is a mask for the nearly dead-Momma problem–she didn’t know what to do about it and has mortgaged all our lives to it by force.
This morning I see it trying to come through: I dropped my breakfast plate to angry looks from the food handler and a slight hush in the dining room and i was scared. I crossed out the wrong persons name in the list for church– I’m not going. My guiding voices tell me not to. The Lord led me to call my mother early. We had a date for coffee today. She is cornered: she called back to say “DONT call back in half an hour.”
I forgave the resident Je. for marring my newfound innocence last night when i went out for the last smoke at 8 and then i didnt know what to do and went to sleep on it. In all these awkward details i see immananence, a channel for the start of rhe awkward unravelling of the TRUE stories of all of our lives held in abatement all these years.
I used to love my mother unconditionally in fact obscenely, if that’s possible, no matter what, then I had my own child, and i failed to appreciate her unconditionally usurping my power over my own life even in that regard. We became bitter enemies. Thats funny. Even as i type I am realizing how she has pulled the wool over my eyes these last 5 years since i came up here after the divorce. Why did i do that? Her spell if course. Oh God forgive me my folly
Lord I believe. Help thou my unbelief.