Behind the Curtain

So Mom has her laptop. She is online. She has an email address and can
now receive photos and files (I can get that to you if you’d like). She aspires
to have a facebook page. In all honesty, this makes me a smidge nervous. Or
maybe not nervous but maybe her impending connectedness has made me more
self-censored. Less likely to say certain things; things that could hurt her
feelings. Things like my NY life is not the best. Because really it is not. I
feel like I should get it out know while Mom’s computer skills are still new. Let’s
break it down, shall we:


It is true that my summer job at the marina is, in most senses, the best
job for me. Not full time. Low stress. Uniforms (OK, just polo shirts). The
thing is that I still almost feel physically ill every time I have to go to
work. It is hard to say why. Maybe it is because, truth be told, I know next to
nothing about boats (I did learn that the “port” side is the left side – port has
four letters and so does left). I can’t assist the boaters in their discussions
on hurricanes and tides (I learned that our marina is not a “hurricane hole”.
OK, how nasty does that sound? Really. I am assuming it means we are not a safe
harbor in a hurricane. But hurricane hole…blech). Then there are the teenage
boys I work with. Do I really have anything to talk about with a teenage boy….no,
no I don’t. Today I met the other new girl they hired because all the college
kids went back to school. She is me if I had never left the town I grew up in. She
is me if I had lived on Long Island my entire life. Maybe that is why I don’t
think we will ever really LIKE each other. She is me gone wrong. Who wants to
see that? Be with it. Experience it every time you work. Yeah, not me.


I have none. I am unable to go anywhere whenever I want. While it is
true that I can use my Mom’s car, it doesn’t happen too often. The only time I
actually got away away was one day when I had Joe’s car.  The day I drove to Luce Hawkins and decadently drank wine late morning; a heavenly undertaking. Maybe because I feel like Mom’s car comes with strings. Ah, the strings.


Mom gets pissed if I don’t call in if there is a change of plans. If I am
going to be a bit late. Take tonight for example (although she did not get
angry tonight). Joe brought my son into town to meet me because I was getting
off at eight. They came by and then “went for drinks” (my son had a Shirley
Temple which is pretty gross) and fries. I got out at like 8:10 and walked over
to meet them. At 8:50 we were buckling my son into his booster, getting ready
to head home. That’s when the phone rang. It was Mom. I made Joe answer it. I
figured she would be less angry with Joe. It was easier to blame it on Joe than
tell her from the outset the plan. I feel like she disapproves of me doing
anything and I just don’t want to deal with it. I don’t know if it is because
she doesn’t think I should spend any money. She doesn’t think that I should
hang out with Joe. She thinks that if I am not working, I should just be at the
compound. She thinks that I should do fun things with her. I have no idea. It
is so easy to slip into a more childlike role given this set of circumstances,
it is hard to express. We had a shouting match over this one night and I asked
if she would be happy if I had a GPS implanted in me so she would know where I
was every moment of the day. Nice.


I have none. I really can’t even discuss the sleeping arrangements in
the house. They are too appalling. Suffice to say that we have three adults, a
six year old, a golden retriever and springer spaniel sleeping in two bedrooms.
The only time since June that I have been alone in the house was last week and
it lasted about 10 minutes. I could truly hear the angels singing before the
gate banged and my sister returned from the post office.

I know, you are like, go the f* home already. It sounds so easy. I can’t
do it. We will likely not do this again. I have learned my lesson. But I am
here now. We are here now and despite everything, the benefits in the long run
to my son and my mother cannot be discounted. When the two of them go on one of
their adventures, it is truly magical. My mother nourishes my son’s imagination
and creativity, she feeds it and fosters it, she fans it and blows on it to
keep it strong and glowing. He has no other adult in his life who entertains
his fantasy world like she does. The memories they are building now are
necessary to sustain them. These memories will have to be strong and fierce to
get them through the time desert between visits in the future because we will
again experience long and depressing bouts of not seeing each other. I will
just need to remember that breaking up my family for my family was not
necessarily the best of choices. And maybe you really can’t go home again.

About nematomorph

Living like the rich and famous, splitting time between Hawaii and New York.
This entry was posted in Hawaii, New York, Parenting and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Behind the Curtain

  1. Paula says:

    You can’t. But who could tell you? Luv, me.

  2. Kila says:

    I know it’s not easy, but being there with your son is what you had to do. You two will talk about these months forever.

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