Today is my mother's birthday. It will also be nearly 9 months since I last spoke to my mother, by choice. The child in my head knows that to not call might be about as awful as not returning her call for Christmas. And, that at some point I will receive the call in which my mother is no longer alive - whether for natural or unnatural reasons. And that child feels guilty and scared of being on the other side of her being gone and having never forgiven her.
The adult in my head knows I have spent my entire adulthood trying to find a way to be in a positive healthy relationship with her - some of my attempts have been better than others - and it has turned out to be impossible. Impossible because it hurts to see where she is in life, it hurts to say no when she asks for money, it hurts when she says hateful things, it hurts when she says nice things because you know they will be followed by mean things, it hurts when she takes credit for my successes. It hurts to watch someone self destruct and hope to god you don't follow that path.
Aside from the hurt is my disgust for her utter lack of concern for anyone or anything around her. It might be silly, but I'm pissed she doesn't pay her bills, doesn't pay taxes, and lives off of our government services. But you know what? I think even more than hurt and pissed, I'm embarrassed. Embarrassed that I am the daughter of someone who plays the system (and unfortunately is successful at it). This embarassment recently came to a head.
It was about 5 am on a weekday...only 30 minutes before I was scheduled to get up...when I got a knock on the door. It was my doorman. Very appologetically, he said he was very sorry to disturb me at this hour but that there was someone downstairs who was here to reposess my car.
At 5 am, awoken from a dead sleep, I will admit I wasn't in my usual quick form. I repeatedly said "But I OWN my car". And then he said the two magic words.
My mother's name.
Having lived here for not even two months, most of the people I want to find me cannot. And so, I knew it was trouble. I immediately wondered if somehow my mother had put debt into my name or filed against my car. Though none of that makes sense, I cannot be held accountable for what happens at 5 am when your doorman says "Repossess."
The short of a long story is that it wasn't my car they were looking for, it was my mom's.* The Repo Man said words like "State police are on their way" and "The title of the car is in my name and whomever is found driving the car will be immediately arrested" and "What do you mean you don't know where your mother lives"
I responded with, "Take any car you'd like with that description" and "Best of luck".
When I returned to my apartment I did what any good daughter would do who was called upon by a repo guy at 5 am in her luxury apartment by her doorman. I called my mother. I left her a message in a voice in which you could actually hear the hate eminating. I told her someone came looking for her car at my door, that I'd NEVER been so embarrassed, and that she'd be arrested if they found her. Her email response was that she didn't give them my address since she doesn't know where I live (jabby little knife, thanks!) and that she's sorry for the inconvenience.
Now I know that "Sorry for the inconvenience" sounds polite, but it really meant "Sorry that you're too rich to understand what us poor folks have to go through to survive and that I dirtied your carpet."
But you know what I think? I think, if you want to screw up your life. Go for it. Until it effects someone else. Namely me. Namely someone whose job depends on her keeping her nose clean and staying out of debt. Because if I lose my clean name...I lose my job. And when I lose my job...I lose my dream job and a lifetime of job security.
And, I might just lose my shit.
With that, I tell the child in my head who thinks perhaps it would be best if I called to say happy birthday or at least send an e-card: "we don't walk to strangers."
*Somehow, my name was linked to hers though I don't know how given we have to different last names - she hasn't used mine for over 20 years. I'm also lucky enough to be the only family member whose name links to her.
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