Today I came home to spend some time with my mother, and I found her lying on our couch watching some free indie movie from the Sundance channel. Amidst the nonchalant cussing and the hipster clothing, I realize the characters are talking about a relationship that seems all too similar to that of my parents. The main character and her mother are eating dinner, and as the daughter complains about her boyfriend, the mother accuses her of being clingy and needy. She immediately denies these accusations, but then begins to look away thoughtfully and looks puzzled. This I believe is one of the problems that my mom also has/had. She’s dependent on my father, dependent on me, dependent on something maybe unattainable. I look over at my mom, who seems oblivious to the connection at all. As the movie goes on, the couple tries space as a cure for their troubled relationship, but the meaningless sex ends up making them both feel more dependent than ever. And finally though their chemistry is still reactive, their relationship dwindles down to a smile and a wave as the EX-boyfriend drives away. It’s sad when relationships die. Especially where there is something genuine there, but for some reason it feels like playing a chess game every day. Your mind ends up hurting, you get tired, and then you hope for it to maybe end in a stalemate.
After the movie ends, my mother began talking to me about her trip to California she took with my father back when she was 23. My mom had graduated college and my dad had convinced her to take a road trip. They had planned to go in October; however, my dad was slightly “tied up” with another woman I’ll call Tracy 1. (Mistake number one on my mom’s part) So they ended up going in November. My father came to pick up my mom at her house in Campbellsville, and he tells her, “Hey, I have a surprise for you. Let me show you something.” My mom walks around to the back of his car, he pops the trunk excitedly, and there is none other but a garden full of pot in the back of his car. Literally, just a bunch of plants. I pause the story to say, “Was he completely stupid?! Why would you get in a car with that?” And she says, “I don’t know, I didn’t want to. But I did.” (Mistake number two) The trip was long and hot. There was no air, and the car reeked of weed. When they got to San Francisco, they found the cheapest hotel possible the Anxious Arms. It was night when they arrived and the hotel was all but welcoming and it lent its name to their emotions. She said they stayed there a while until my mom could get a job. After she made enough money, they rented a house on hedge street. One day, my mom checked the mail to find a letter from Tracy 1. A thick letter, she said that she kept for years. “So my dad had been seeing her this whole time in Cali, while my mom had been paying for everything,” I ask? And she sighed “yes, that’s how it was.” Of course I’m thinking…what the hell??? I mean I guess when you’re really in love with someone, you tend to ignore the things that are bad about that person. Even if they beat you down, you think, well they did this or that for me, and they will get better. I guess that’s why so many good people get ruined, like some lost civilization; They were mislead by their so called friend, and it resulted in their downfall. However, my mom assimilated and took this bullshit in stride. And I guess I should be happy. Or else I wouldn’t be born.