>I don’t know why I used my day off work to go spend time with my mother. Well, actually, I do. She’s 75 years old, not getting any younger and certainly not getting any healthier. She has diabetes, high blood pressure and a whole host of other health problems. I love my mother and want to spend time with her because she hasn’t got a whole lot of time left. So when I had the day off and she asked me to go to this festival with her I went.
She says she asked me to go with her because I am another woman and enjoy quilts. She said it’s hard doing things like that with Jeffrey because he doesn’t appreciate them the same way another stitcher would. Okay, that made sense. But once we got there the two of them kept walking away from me and leaving me all alone in this huge hall crowded with strangers. I don’t do well with crowds and I don’t do well with strangers and they both know it. Don’t get me wrong, the entire day wasn’t miserable, just a large portion of it.
The quilts were beautiful, I’m going to try and attach pictures here. There were thousands of quilts, some were absolute masterpieces of work, some were really, really ugly. That was the best part of the day. Then we walked through part of the vendor section, the part with everyone in their stalls selling stuff. Mom kept stopping and saying, “If I had the money I’d buy that for _______.” Fill in the blank with everyone else’s name but mine, her sisters, my sister, her nieces and nephews, her grandchildren, her friends. Everyone but me. My mom is awesome. She needlepoints, she sews, she machine embroiders, she quilts. She has made things and given them to everyone she knows. Everyone except me. She’s made Christmas stockings, monogrammed bath towels, embroidered placemats and kitchen towels, decorated jackets, made quilts, gorgeous wall hangings, you name it. In all these years she has given me one embroidered dish towel that she was really going to throw away because it was flawed.
I really have no room to complain. She and Jeff took me in and cared for me, fed me, drove me to doctor’s appointments, the whole works while I was recovering from my broken wrist. We packed a lunch to take with us yesterday because she knew I wouldn’t have the money to eat out and when lunchtime came and she didn’t want to walk back to the car she bought me a salad. We ate the sandwiches for dinner as we drove home. The point is when my mother dies everyone will have all these beautiful keepsakes and I will have a flawed tea towel. Okay, I will have memories, lots and lots of memories. Let’s hope I don’t get Alzheimer’s.
Yesterday was a toss up. The quilts were fabulous. We shared some laughs (the scene in the bathroom was priceless but in the end everyone in there was laughing at me, not her. I was so humiliated.) She abandoned me only to find me again and humiliate me, put me down, criticize me and otherwise make me feel small and unloved. Why did I go with her? She’s 75 years old, not getting any younger and certainly not getting any healthier. She doesn’t have much time left and I love her. I have a pattern of loving those who don’t love me.
I’m driving back to Stockton today to spend more time with her.