Going Home

The young woman had difficulty dealing with the fact that she’d be going home and seeing her mother for the first time in almost 4 years. What were they going to talk about? Everything they ever discussed turned into a power struggle of how her mother was “Mom, Authority Figure” and how she, the child at 26 now, should have listened to her mother when they were younger. Everything in her life seemed to boil down to that, although there were times it included her father: “Had he not died, your father would have kept you in line.”

But damn it, she did her best and made some wise choices, like moving to New York and finishing college and landing a good paying job.

But those were icing on a cake of things her mother didn’t like. Like the time she slept with a professor at college. Or had sex with another women. Or decided to be Wiccan, which flew in the face of her Catholic upbringing.

So, when the mother and daughter met at the airport, the young woman pretended her mother was someone she’d just met and wanted to know better. During lunch, she asked her mother to tell her about her childhood, what music and TV shows and movies she liked, and what made her laugh and cry. She spent the whole afternoon asking questions and getting to know her mother. When she finished, she hugged the woman and said, “I may not agree with or understand some of your life choices, but I love you all the same. And I know you don’t approve of some of my life choices, but I know you have never stopped loving me.”

Her mother agreed and cried in her daughter’s embrace. At home, they talked well into the night, sharing moments and feelings. And the young woman never let her mother forget how much she loved her. They were honest and frank and spoke without a lot of disapproving comment. And by morning, they watched the sunrise and saw each other in a new light … a good light.

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