One of my favorite things about being an adult -- along with taking whatever I want from hotel minibars and not making my bed every day -- is having a friendship with my parents. A few years ago, probably around the time I (finally) finished school and started paying my own bills, a subtle shift in our relationship occurred: rather than seeking out their approval or placing demands on them, I found myself calling them just to talk, emailing to share an article or link I thought they'd appreciate, and coming to them for the guidance that can only come from people who've known you quite literally forever.
It's not that we'd ever had a parent/child relationship characterized by friction -- quite the contrary; while I'd had some sullen teen moments, we didn't have screaming fights or silent stand-offs (and I never once threw milk in their faces). Even so, as I felt my way down the dim hallway of responsibility toward the glaring and sometimes menacing light of adulthood, I found myself reaching out to them and opening up in entirely new ways.
Sure, I still asked my dad to hang shelves and set up computer networks when they came to visit, and I let my mom continue to cook holiday meals single-handedly. But I also confided in them about relationships and office politics and finances; I sought their counsel, asked for them to reflect back to me everything I'd been over the years. In giving me that, they gave me myself; they offered me the threads of my personality that had formed when I was still in diapers, threads that had been knotted and stretched and raveled over time, but never snapped, so that I could weave together the person I wanted to be, the woman I was always meant to become.
One of the most important elements in this process not of growing up but of growing into myself has been my daily correspondence with my mom. We email almost on an hourly basis, and when she's away from her computer or I'm busy at work, we're both taking mental notes of what we're not getting to say to each other during that brief absence. We write about weird dreams we had the night before, the latest castoff on some cheesy reality show, our weekend plans, what we're planning to wear to the next big family function. That we discuss such seemingly mundane things is a testament to the strength of our bond -- we email so frequently that it's almost as if we live right next door to one another, trading recipes and gossip over the back fence.
What's startling is how similar we are in lots of ways. I am, as a whole, probably a perfect blend of both of my parents; but the things I get from my mom are so specific and complex that it begs the nature/nuture debate anew. For example, we both have a strange paranoia about offending other people completely by accident. If I've emailed someone and haven't received a response in what I consider to be a proper time frame, I start to worry that what I wrote to them has somehow hurt their feelings, that they are sitting fuming on the other end of the Internet at my thoughtless words. I'll go back and read and re-read my initial email and scrutinize it for possible unintended meaning. Of course, generally they've just forgotten to respond (or simply don't fire emails back to people within twenty seconds of receiving them), and once they finally do, all is well. My mom does the exact same thing. Hilariously, we will write each other about it: "I sent a note to so-and-so yesterday and she hasn't written back yet. I don't think I said anything untoward, but maybe my 'hey!' was too breezy..." and we'll have to talk each other down from that place of anxiety and self-flagellation.
Mom and I are also both an odd breed of social butterfly homebodies -- which is to say that, while we're content to stay home and do quiet, home-y things some of the time (and we are both married to men who are happy to do that 99% of the time), we also have this innate need to occasionally get out on the town, meet new people, laugh loudly and drink wine. And yet, paradoxically, we're both on the shy side when we go into large-group situations. We fuss over outfits before a party (although neither of us is into fashion or makeup; we know what works for us, and we stick with the basics that never go out of style) and get jittery before meeting new people; but once we get warmed up, we know how to work a room. And if we feel like we've gone too long between social engagements, we get antsy and moody, and gripe to each other that we're in a giant rut.
I didn't inherit everything from Mom -- I can't sew AT ALL, or do even the smallest crafty sort of thing, whereas she made clothes for me and fashioned dolls and Annie dresses and Little House costumes with her own two hands, and now she has become a fabulous and accomplished artist. I also don't know if I'd have the wherewithal to get all up in the grill of an NYPD officer. I wouldn't have the patience to teach kindergarten (she did for 25 years). I can't sing (she has a lovely voice). And I will try to modulate my voice if I ever have to buy anyone their first bra.
Beyond that, though, I hope I bring to my little corner of the world just a smidgen of the gifts my mom brings to mine: organizational skills that border on the fanatical (Mom could solve the world's problems in thirty seconds flat if her powers were properly harnessed); hospital-grade cleaning techniques; a strong sense of tradition; a quiet spirituality; an almost telepathic empathy; an appreciative laugh; and, most of all, unfailing and unflagging generosity.
In fact, I'll take all of these, even if it means that, like her, I tear up at the slightest hint of emotion and sometimes feel inadequate in spite of a laundry list of accomplishments. Because it's all a part of who she is, and I wouldn't change a thing about that.
Happy Birthday, Mom! Thank you for being my mother and my friend.
How wonderful that you and your mother have such a fantastic relationship. I miss my mom so very much, and it warms my heart to read about you and your mom.
Posted by: Laura B. | October 24, 2006 at 09:56 PM
Great birthday post! And it reminds me that I owe you an e-mail from like 3 weeks ago. But I'm not offended. I just don't always respond promptly to e-mail. =)
Posted by: -R- | October 24, 2006 at 11:05 PM
This is very touching. What a wonderful relationship the two of you have. I hope your mom prints this and reads it often. :-)
Posted by: Beth | October 24, 2006 at 11:22 PM
What a lovely tribute to your mum - it's so nice to see people who have great relationships with their parents.
Posted by: Cee | October 25, 2006 at 12:01 AM
Happy birthday, Lawyerish's mom! I loved this, and got a little weepy. Moms rule (mine totally does, too)
(Incidentally, my mother is also crafty and an accomplished artist, and why God, just why? Why not me too?)
Posted by: jonniker | October 25, 2006 at 12:10 AM
Enjoyed the read about mothers and friendships. I too, have a remarkable love/friendship with my Mom. We have never lived more than 15 minutes away from each other and talk everyday. She is so full of wonderful qualities too. I feel sorry for others who do not know how wonderful that a special mother /daughter relationship is. I never knew how much my mom loved me until I had my own daughters/best friends. It just gets better. Thanks for reminding me.
Posted by: Lynn | October 25, 2006 at 12:57 AM
Happy Birthday, "Mom"! Ah, the hospital grade cleaning techniques. Vacuum tracks everywhere! WHY, WHY didn't we inherit our moms' ability to sew????
Posted by: Allison | October 25, 2006 at 09:54 AM
Awww, happy birthday, Lawyerish's Mom! This was such a sweet post!
Posted by: guinness girl | October 25, 2006 at 10:11 AM
Happy (belated?) Birthday, Lawyerish's mom!
Your mama sounds wonderful. As I've gotten older, I've become more and more in awe of my own mom. I hope I can be just half the mom she was for us!
Posted by: jes | October 25, 2006 at 11:01 AM
You suckup! Er, I mean "wonderful daughter". That's ok... any points you got from mom for this posting still pale in comparison to my ultimate trump card -- the grandson. Keep trying, number 2 offspring! Hahahahahahaha!
Posted by: CraigNY | October 25, 2006 at 11:04 AM
My mom was all over the costumes too, only it wasn't Little House and Annie but Little House and Raggedy Ann. I would give my thumbs to be so crafty.
I'm still waiting to get comfortable with the idea of being friends with my mom. She wants it badly, but I just don't want to be close to her in a girlfriend kind of way. I prefer to think she is perfect instead of flawed and insecure like everyone else. Maybe someday...
Posted by: Leah | October 25, 2006 at 05:18 PM
Thanks for all the warm birthday wishes for my mom, everyone! She appreciates all your comments.
And I'm glad to see so many people have great mother/daughter friendships going. Rock!
Laura, I'm so sorry your mom can't be here to share in your adulthood, too. I am sure her memory and spirit are with you every day.
As for you, CraigNY - you are SO just bitter that I beat you on the SAT. And was valedictorian. I maybe number 2 in birth order, but I am number 1 in the family academic records. BWAH HA HA. (Oh, who am I kidding? You win it all for the grandkid. Dammit.)
Leah - I understand what you mean. But it is truly amazing when you let yourself see her as human and she STILL seems perfect, because she's your mom. I hope you get there.
Posted by: lawyerish | October 25, 2006 at 10:13 PM
What a beautiful tribute to your mom. I am in a similar relationship with my mom. The emails fly all day long. I love this post. I love that other people are close to their mom's.
Posted by: CPA Mom | October 26, 2006 at 12:43 PM