Maybe its time I do a Meemo is blog….
The woman who gave birth to me
The woman with my face, my eyes, my freckles and a smile that lights up the world (and I don’t even think she knows it)
The woman who has a sense of humor that is indescribable, and yet funny as all get out
No nonsense and tough as a box of rocks
The woman who somehow knows my dislike of tomatoes and my fears of being left
An endless number of amazing stories to tell
The woman who can take just about everything I have thrown at her, and just take it in stride
I think she is amazing
Our relationship however, is indescribable.
For the longest time, I have wanted a mother figure, someone who will love me unconditionally despite the fact that I have my flaws and issues. Who can know who I am, who I really am, and like me anyway. Someone who won’t second guess me, what I do and the decisions I make. Someone mushy and lovey who would love the child in me that just really, really wants to be loved.
To most of you, you are probably thinking that all this time I had my biological mother in the back of my mind as this figure, but the truth of it is, I didn’t.
I always thought that my bio mother and I would meet someday, I though we would have some kind of relationship, however I wasn’t ever sure what it was going to be. Mostly, I was largely afraid that she would be disappointed in the person that I was, that I would be too fat, too unsuccessful, too something and not enough something else. I never imagined that the relationship would go anything beyond a hello, how are you, we should do lunch sometime. I never really wanted another mother, I have one, don’t need another.
Now you are probably expecting me to say that I got my mother figure anyway… this is partly true, and partly not, and I have discovered that the relationship that I did get is far better than either A. the weird one I always expected to have with my bmom one day or B. the mushy motherly thing… she is so NOT the mushy motherly thing
So what is she….
I wondered since I met her what our relationship was going to be. It is different from anything anyone can describe, and there isn’t a book that you can read on it, there isn’t a description in the world that can possibly describe it. It just is what it is. I think both of us were unsure where any of this was going to go, however it didn’t take long to realize that it was going to go somewhere… somewhere beyond hello, how are you, we should do lunch sometime. I knew from the moment when I first called her that it was going to be different from that, after all, this woman is a lot like me. ME! Who would have thunk it…. someone out there that was like ME!
It took a bit to get into the swing of things, her family really tipped it off to me, it was like, wow, I fit here! I was so afraid that I was going to lose her that I hung on as tight as I could. Almost as if it were a dream and if I didn’t hang on tight enough, it was going to vanish before I could get my fingers around it again. Once I realized she wasn’t going anywhere, I could let go of that. But still, what do we become, what do we do with this relationship.
We went on this little trip of ours, and I realized that we really have fallen into something. Something that I think is going to stick as what our relationship is going to be.
Meemo is, biologically my mother, but in reality more like a sister. The age gap between us is not large, she was far too young to have me. The turn of events could have been so different, but we met as adults, so both of us treat each other as adults. It is amazing because I feel that we have this adult relationship that is somewhat separate from the fact that she is my mom and I am her daughter. The fact that we are both adults, and the fact that she didn’t have to raise me changes the course of any relationship we have. Over the time of this trip, I looked at her differently, I see her as an entity all of her own, and yet one that is shared with me. I see her as a woman with a lot to teach me, and a lot to share. I see our relationship forming as one that makes perfect sense for both of us. She is not mushy and lovey, and surprisingly enough, all I had to do was look inside myself and discover that I really don’t need that, nor want that, particularly from her.
I now think of us as somewhat akin to close sisters, the ones with a large enough age gap for there to be that mother instinct between them, but without all the mother stuff to go along. She doesn’t need to tell me to do my homework, or to make sure to clean behind my ears… there are no fights about curfew, where I have been and what I was doing. No issues seeing me as the adult I am because she met me as the adult I am, and even though I am her daughter, I don’t need to fall into the daughter role with her as I do with my mother. We can share stories of the stupid things we did in high school. We can share our fears of things and life and the mistakes and successes we have had along the way. She can give me advice that her 17 extra years on me have given her, and we can tell our secrets without fears. I can look up to her, and see her as an equal, at the same time. It truly is amazing to me.
Sometimes this relationship is difficult, sometimes there are expectations and previous images that are hard to break. Sometimes its tough to get past that she is my mother, and other times, even though its like looking in a mirror, I forget that she is. Really, I am just thankful to her, and her family, for accepting me. I got my acceptance, my unconditional love and trust from a source that I never even saw, or imagined, coming. And for once I have found that I am happy it worked this way.