Meet Mr. & Mrs. Pistachio, Boy, and Pizzafatboy.

The stories my mother tells from her childhood should be fake. The plot lines are too neat, too hallmark channel. The names are too cartoonish, as if fate tried extra hard to make her experiences unrelatable and surreal... like her old neighbors the Pistachio family. "What's going on at the Pistachio nut house??!" My grandmother would screech into the phone. Ha, ha, grandma. Or the park ranger my mother used to work with- the one who lived in a teepee and named his son Boy. Or the man on the wharf that both my mother and father were acquainted with, known simply as Pizzafatboy.


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My mother is in a chatty mood tonight because I opened up to her and told her how I was feeling. It was a big step for me, and it was difficult to do. Of course, she reacted in her typical way. Deny, deny, deny. Push away blame from herself. Then tell me in a pained voice that she feels my pain every day- my burden is her burden. Say maybe all my problems are her fault, then get quiet and stare at the wall.
My best tactic at that point is to stand up and get busy doing some household chore- in this case taking down all the ornaments off the christmas tree. After a half hour or so she brightens up and becomes talkative. I don't know if it is because she wants to smooth over the seriousness of our last conversation with sugary talk and overly nostalgic recollections, or if it is her last-ditch effort to be that kind of mom- the one that has an open, healthy relationship with her daughter.
Sometimes I wish she would just listen, not try to analyze but just accept my life situation and my thoughts and feelings regarding it. I feel guilty after talking to her. This is why it's hard for me to talk to her- I don't want to let her know about the pain I do feel because I know on some level she blames herself, which is not right. But as long as I keep talking, keep working, keep doing the hardest thing, our relationship will improve. Worst case scenario is that I can console myself with the fact that I really did try to be open and honest and loving.


I am working to teach myself, step by step, how to love. One little thing at a time, so I can love my family, myself, my life.