Of Mothers, Daughters, and Sisters

Okay guys (you know, you folks of the male gender)...you can check out now. ;o)

This entry is a girl thing.

Watching Pinot interact with Kenya and Elsie has gotten me thinking about mothers, daughters, and sisters.The older I get, the more I realize just how important and irreplaceable these relationships really are (don't call me sexist here; I'm saving fathers, brothers, and sons for another discussion).


Regular Reader knows we've had some sizable family yuk going on here since late October.

When my brother's family's stuff hit the fan in late October (the same week, btw, as my twin sister's stuff started here), my dear 84-year-old mother flew out to AZ (yes, that's PA to AZ, and yes, she's 84!) to help my brother and his family get through their crisis.

She thought she'd be gone a week or two and was certain she'd be back by Thanksgiving.

Mom is still there, in AZ, as I write this.

Now, don't get me wrong. She's been absolutely needed in AZ. And still is (looks like she's coming home in April now). And I'm glad for her to be so wanted and needed there in this season of her life.

But I miss her.

I never thought I would. I'm pretty independent and always have been. And we weren't super close while I was growing up (jobs, busyness, etc.) and for most of my adulthood (lived too far away). She moved down here to live near my sister and me five years ago when Dad died. It's only in these recent years that I've begun to know and value her for the wonderful woman she is (instead of just "Mom").

Besides, I have always had my twin sister. Don't ask me to explain the twin thing; it is what it is.

Enter twin sister's family crisis.

We didn't tell Mom about my twin sister's (let's call her TS) crisis until a few weeks ago (the same crisis that started the same week my brother's family's issues started back in October). We kept thinking Mom was coming home and that we wanted to tell her face-to-face.

But it got too long. My sister finally told her over the phone. Of course, as soon as Mom found out what was happening here she wanted to fly back. But if Mom flew back, no one would be there for my bro in AZ. So Mom stayed.

I've been saying to Mom all along..."it's okay, [insert brother's name] needs you there more; I can be here for [insert TS's name]. Stay as long as you need to. We're okay here."

The problem is, I lied.

What I didn't realize is that I need her.

The stuff with TS's family is killing me (rips my heart out, infuriates me, confuses me, confounds me, grieves me deeply). And TS has all she can do to stay sane and function. For this season (and I hope it's a short season), TS can't be the sister she's always been. It's just too difficult. And though I'm glad to be there for her, and will be forever, and though I love her to pieces and I'm willing to support her however I can, and though she's handling things with incredible dignity, strength, grace, and endurance, I miss the playful "us" TS and I used to be.

(Okay, before you rag on me, I know TS can't be herself right now, nor do I expect her to be -- I just miss my seeester's joy and confidence and creativity and sense of humor and easy-going nature, all of which has been mostly absent since the crisis began -- I despise what this is doing to her. And I know much of her old self will return in time -- the circumstances are just too ugly right now).

I miss her. I miss life before October (should I call that life BO?)(hehe)

And missing her makes me miss Mom all the more.

Here I am, a 47-year-old grown, responsible, mature (well, some would say that... I'm not sure I would), successful (ditto last parentheses), well-adjusted (ditto again), woman. And I miss my mommy.

You know, it's funny. I miss my Dad, too (gone five years now). I saw an older gentleman yesterday who looked a lot like Dad and I started blubbering like a baby (I didn't even cry at Dad's funeral). But that's another story.

What is it about parents and children?

Why is it that when we hurt, we long for people who love us (or loved us long ago), who we think will understand?

When Pinot becomes rattled she doesn't bother Baxter or even Kenya (her best bud in all the world). She scrunches in beside Ridge (canine Dad) or Elsie (canine Mom).




When I'm rattled I first scrunch in next to hubby, but I don't want to stress him too much. And it used to be that when I didn't want to stress him, I'd scrunch in next to TS or Mom. But neither can be here right now.

I wish the stuff with my brother's and sister's families had never happened. I want life BO.

Or maybe it's just that I don't want to need people so much. Maybe we really are more pack animals than we'd care to think.

And, you know, if I think about, I suppose it's okay with me -- this needing people. Being a pack animal has its perks.

At least our laps stay warm when life gets cold!


And, when it's all said and done, I suppose that's better and healthier than managing life alone.

I just wish it didn't hurt so much.

'Til next time,

Joan (yes, that's the real, round me there snuggled in with the girls!)