I pushed those thoughts aside. They would not do me any good. I stopped living in the past. The past always had a way of creeping in though, no matter how hard you tried. It was inevitable. The kicker was the timing.
Mom had only just recently come back into my life. Sort of like a fluke, not by either of their choice. A mutual friend to both me and Mom, whom Mom was visiting took matters into his own hands and rang me up while my Mom was visiting. He said someone wanted to talk to me and the next thing I knew I was talking to my Mom.
It was a little awkward at first, but only for a minute. I remembered not too much of the conversation as I politely listened and responded when necessary. Mom sure hadn't changed. Which usually turned into a problem for me in the long run.
I remember thinking that I was going to kill our mutual friend and how dead Pete was. It was difficult to stay mad at him. Considering how many times we conversed on the subject, and he knew how strongly I felt and the reasons why I felt that way, I felt a little hurt and betrayed.
It is hard to stay mad at someone who totally ignores the reason why you parted company and acts like you are their long lost best friend and how have you been, and great to talk to you and I miss you and on and on and on, especially when it is your Mom!
I remember my boyfriend sitting across the table from me as I talked on the phone with my Mom, knowing something was up, but not knowing what. My stomach lurched, I remember, knowing that this great and "normal" guy, who somehow managed to love me despite being the complete opposite of him in so many ways was in no way ready for my Mom and how the thought terrified me.
Family is family, and I was brought up that family is the most important thing, next to good manners, strong values and kindness. One thing I was, and always am is respectful, well, mostly. It took a lot to push me over the edge and respond in a less than kind and respectful way, but when the dam breaks, it breaks and a flood of water comes rushing through.
I knew at that point that our relationship was probably doomed. As I recalled him telling me when we first met, after I met his sons, that if his sons didn't like me then no matter how he felt about me it would be over.
It seemed fortunate to me at the time that they both seemed to like me. I am not judgmental like that. I have in the past sacrificed much for "Love". I don't think I have it in me to not like someone just because someone else did not approve of them.
Then again, I was used to being judged and that was one of the causes of my deep rooted anger which I had been successfully working on modifying over the previous fifteen years when it was brought to my attention that I was one large walking angry time bomb.
I remember the interrogation as I hung up the phone. Mom represented trouble to Frank. I could tell by his questioning that he was already nervous and it had just been a phone call. He knew how I felt about my Mom, that I loved her, but was not ready to talk to her.
Being forced to do so was so unfair! The damage was done, there was no undoing it. I would just have to do my best to keep some boundaries. Lord knew I had spent countless hours talking the subject almost to death, with my shrink.
Having come to terms with the relationship and it's limitations and the demands under normal circumstances , a life without a person whom I had spent so long fighting to have a relationship with, to be important to and being abandoned over and over again was bad enough as a child, but as an adult it was even worse, and now that person was back and needed my help. Life was so ironic!