Mi Familia

(To B)

Yesterday my mom left.

We kind of knew that she would for some time. Growing up, she'd take leave of absence from family life for weeks, a month, several months. She'd want time for herself and come back with a fixed nose, a face lift, liposuction, some kind of cosmetic procedural addiction - and she'd come back seemingly more confident, more able to take a grasp on what is Us. I think this time around is eye laser surgery. Whatever she needs, I assure myself.

She was gone when I got home from work yesterday evening, and there was this part in my stomach that felt still. Replacing it was this stiffening in my lower back. When my mom is absent, I slip into a bigger mother role than I usually take. I take careful measure of what my brothers are eating, usually just by asking what they need or want. I fill in a joy of doing work around the house and being in their presence much more without my mom around. Whenever she leaves like this, we get closer. I remember when I was in the 10th grade, my mom left for several months. Every night, we'd climb into her queen size bed and slept together, holding each other. Those memories stand out really clearly for me.

Tonight, my brothers and I hung out in my brothers' room, and the youngest one taught me how to do circular breathing (I thought of you). This morning, the older one confided in me his concerns regarding Anthony's obvious ventures in internet pornography. We take chores more seriously, fulfilling responsibilities because we want to, not because they are obligations. I noticed something we never would do with my mom around. Before going to class, I ran upstairs to shower, and asked Tom, can you load out the dishwasher so I can empty the sink? His quick and attentive reply, Sure! One, he'd usually ignore such requests. Two, if I were to do that within my mom's hearing, she'd tell me that I was lazy and too reliant about duties that should only belong to me. She'd never let my brothers touch kitchen chores. She believes that belongs to the woman.

I know that my brothers and I all have this tightening around our spines. The anxiety of taking care of ourselves without the regiment of my mom's strict supervision. In some ways, I try to ease it, but I also really enjoy the way that they - and I - hold ourselves without being regimented constantly. It feels like we're empowered, and we don't take the responsibility lightly.

Just now - I remember one contributing factor to my emotional turmoil last winter before moving home. My mom had just lost her job. One day after her last day at work, she left for several months, missing my birthday and several holidays, narrowly missing Christmas. I was already floundering at that point - in the 8th show of my 12-show high-stress phase, abusing substances, feeling vulnerable and isolated, sleeping with a guy who made me feel ashamed about sleeping with him. During that time, I'd come home every other day, driving from the city. I'd make sure the refrigerator was stocked, checked if their schedules were okay for Tom to pick up Anthony from school or practice, just constantly checking, worried and unworried at the same time. One night, Tom called me to tell me he got into a car accident driving from a game in Davis - at 2am. I asked who was home with Anthony, and he said no one. It was just utter terror for me. Wanting to drive to Tom, who was actually fully capable of getting home, just shaken. And driving to Los Gatos to check in on Anthony who was either up doing homework or talking to his girlfriend, or deeply asleep. It was actually more terrifying than when we were children and I was driving without a license to get them to school every morning, and managing the funds that my mom had left at home.

I still wonder why I can't resent my mom.

Anyways. I raced home tonight to make sure that they're okay. I know that they're fully capable, and still I worry, I have a mother's worry. And yet I maintain my sister relationship in relating to them, it's what I hope for. It's strange to be proud and sad about this attachment that I have to my family. I think I'll be torn apart when/if a sharp separation needs to happen. I have a defined purpose here. That can't be enough.

I'm sorry that this is just pouring out. I imagine that you get exasperated when I talk about family matters, especially my bullshit. It's touchy for everyone.

Trying to enjoy my mom's absence. :)

Love you,
Cindy