bobby i godda code

translation : i'm sick in bed.

so i been sick for like 3 days and decided to stay in bed today.

i've been thinking an awful lot about things and decided maybe i should try to organize these thoughts on  my blog dog.

as i lay in my bed looking out at the snow falling on cedars and barn and garden, i find myself thinking about being a mother of sons.

i never envied my friends who raised girls.

girls were so vulnerable but cunning. sensitive and prone to hating their mothers with a seething contempt.

but i see things differently now. the tables have turned.

now i see the wonderful relationships that have risen from those adolescent ashes

and i envy those 'till death do us part friendships and confidences of mothers and daughters.

is it really as it seems? the shopping and lunch and dinners and grandchildren?

sons are men.
they think like men.
they think of one thing at a time.
so if a thought of 'mom' enters their minds, it is a rare occasion, and even rarer to be followed up by a phone call.
i, being the mother on the other hand, think of my sons nearly night and day.
(it's a curse.) and when i call them, it seems awkward.
i am their mother.
my questions become mother questions, my comments become mother comments.
i have no personality. i am the order of bedrooms and appointments. i am the guard, the magistrate, the cop. i am old fashioned and judgemental.

so i thought i'd just take this  moment to say-
'no. i'm not. not really'.

i've gotten old and set in my ways. but i was an adventurous spirit in my day. and a darn good looker.
i danced and ran and sang and was romantic. i traveled and worked hard and loved and got hurt.
i want so bad to be a friend to my sons now that the raising is over.
but they avoid me.
is it because? i wrestle with my mistakes and wrongdoings day after day.

is it because? my morals are walls that they can't climb over?

is it because? i'm wrinkled and slow and eat too early in the evening?

is it because? i'm just their mom?

i know there are probably answers to these questions with those compassionate momentary phrases to try to apease my guilt and fears, to give advice about how to be a friend to my sons, but in reality- this is what it is.

s i g h

thankyou for letting me say it. now i can try to accept, and detach

and get on with being a bobby wid a code. sneeze/cough

p.s. i am so blessed to have and love and adore my sons. just venting on a stuffed up day.