A Good Mother is Hard to Find

I googled 'mother' pics and this is what came up first. Now I don't know about you, but for me, this photo distinctly screams 'stepmother, mid 20s, no visible stretch marks'. Not, 'gave up hourglass figure & sanity to raise ungrateful trio of children who never call or write as they are too busy living their selfish lives'.

Which leads me neatly onto my topic...

For the past 6 months, I've been terrible about calling my mother. She (as always) has been great. She phones me periodically acting as if she is not at all angry, nor displeased that I have forgotten her. But I know better. I can feel her disappointment with each cheery greeting. I'm know I'm pushing the limits and somewhere down the line I'll pay.

Well...that day has arrived.

On Monday, my great aunt calls out of the blue (I haven't spoken to her in 3 years). She just 'happens' to be in Germany with her daughter and she wants to speak to my mother.

???? This aunt lives in the same city as my mom and they frequently have lunch together.

Er. 'She isn't here,' I say.

Oh? <--- the aunt sounds surprised. 'Well, she should have arrived. Maybe she will get there later tonight? Anyway, let her know we are thinking of booking a hotel in Hyde Park.'

(gulp) Hyde Park???

'Have you not spoken to your mother? We're getting the train into London in a few days. We can all meet up and have lunch. Won't that be nice?'

Like a bullet to the brain.

After my hands stopped shaking and I dry-heaved a bit (excuse the non-ladylike description) I sent an email to my sister to ask what the hell was going on.

I did NOT however call my mother to find out whether she was at home or at the airport. They say ignorance is bliss, then by logic, I must be the happiest lady on the planet.

To my mother's credit, she did tell me in early May that she wanted to visit. But this is MY MOTHER we are talking about. Various times during the year she phones me to say, 'Iran looks interesting dear, let's go there' or 'I've heard Afghanistan is the place to go'.

I don't really take her seriously. We have been planning a trip together to South America for the last 10 years! Everytime we talk, we pretend that this time we are really going. We talk about what who we will see; what we will eat; what beach is best; but we both know she will end up changing her mind and go somewhere else - some place fun like Vegas (last year) or Acapulco (the year before). The allure of her fantasies are not as powerful as the allure of the Bellagio or the marvellous seafood brunch buffet/show featuring Edie Gourmet.

So I wonder... why do I choose to ignore my own mother? Do I really believe she will go away if I do? And if she did - by some miracle - decide to leave me alone, would her abandonment traumatize me to the degree that I would need irrepairable years of therapy?

Is this her way of teaching me a lesson for being so incommunicado? Would she reallyforget to tell me she was coming, just out of spite disguised as 'doorstep surprise'? Typing this, I already know the answer. I think back to all the people in my life that have dared to ignore me. With each slight, my response grew more and more out of control. Before long the pot water was bubbling and all that was left was the bunny...

Despite the worry and guilt that nags at me today, I have still not made contact. I will tonight... I hope. Unless she comes a-knockin' before then.

Whatever is a lady to do?