Well, I knew it might get bad. I mean, it had all the signs of becoming a brutal living environment. I had not spoken or been in contact with my mother for over six years. And before that, our interactions had been infrequent and patchy at best.
So why did I move down South, to live with my sole living parent, that I knew had a lists of personality traits that I absolutely hated or disliked? I was lonely. I had the desire to be in the bosom of my family the way middle-age women without children, chafe with the desire for babies.
I found myself, at 47, wanting to call somewhere home and truly embrace a family; one that I hadn't assembled but was related to by blood.
The fantasy is never like the reality.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
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