Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Background Check

My Mom's name is Linda. She was born in February 1950. She is the mother of three children, all grown and the grandmother of five children, all my sisters kids.

My Dad died six months ago and Mom is not fully over it yet. She still cries everyday. Though she is hopeful to remarry one day.

She works in a garment factory and seems to like her job even though she complains about it daily. She feels that she is the only one that can do this job even though it is a simple job. She feels the place will fall apart without her, as if the people who own the place don't know how pack the garments.

My Mom is a worry wart and is a very fearful person. She is afraid of the snow...she won't drive in it. She is afraid of driving period and is a very nervous driver. She is afraid of traffic and driving on the highway. She is afraid of running the self-clean on the oven cause it might catch on fire. She is scared of a lot of things and it prevents her from doing things. I feel that she may die with many regrets.

My Mom raised three children and raised them well. She stayed home with us until we were in middle school and made sure that she was home to get us off the bus. My Dad worked nights when we were kids, so he was rarely home for dinner or bed time. My Mom did all of that. I remember we would eat dinner very casually in front of the television. We would play cards or put together puzzles after dinner and she would bake us cookies or make pop corn. It was a fun time.

She was fun to be around, so it confuses me how she turned into such a negative person now. She seems to be negative about everything. This was happening before my Dad passed away. I noticed it when I moved back from Maryland. Maybe I never paid attention before or maybe her negativity has grown over the years but now she is so negative that it is often unbearable to be around. And no matter what you say to spin it positive, it just doesn't work on her.

So this is my Mother's life. Don't get me wrong, I love my Mom. To live with her is to understand (or be confused by) her madness. It's interesting and frustrating. I try to figure it out but it's not worth it. She'll never change. Maybe I'm too old to be living with her. Maybe I've changed. I don't know. I love my Mom.