2000-12-04

ok so i am tired, but i've gotta start. why not? this diary stagnates long enough! time to blow it back up again with some new air. from my lungs. Yesterday morning, as i returned from work to come home to kelli who was staying at my place. (and aahh what a nice thing that was . . .) the phone rings. it is a deeply nasel voice on the other line. i am disturbed by this voice. i recognize it. but i don't know what has happened to it. something has changed, and it sounds bad. It is the voice of my mother, though i barely recognize it. She is talking to me, speaking in a slow drawl. I am scared and immediately ask her what's wrong . . .

She's had a face lift.

just a spur of the moment thing. "well, i went in to get a few moles removed . . ." she chuckles. Her sentences trail with meaning more invested to her than she can communicate. Its drugs, painkillers in her system. i can't imagine her face, she says it is draining now. it is wrapped up "like a nun" -- bandaged from ear to ear. and their are tubes exiting from the sides of her face. she tries to explain this to me, and i try to listen.

but i am just cringing. just feeling sick. this is beyond beyond. this is unreal. i just don't get it. let's not go into it, hmmm? the fact that she gets plenty of compliments on her looks already, and that she's offset her age by constant exercise, she looks 10 years younger than she truly is. She doesn't have a problem here, physically.

but this was a desperation move. something she's been planning for months, years even. she went into that doctor's office under cover, under subterfuge. she hid it from her husband of 15 years, and her daughter of 15 years and her son of 25 years. until it was over. (she says to me, "well, i didn't think it would be this obvious, this tell-tale at first ... i was kind of wanting an in and out thing." instead she's wrapped and sick and blown up and unable to chew for 2 weeks. she overlooked that part.

The plan was? like the old story of how she dyed her hair red that one day as a teenager. she just did it. its a rebellion.

she's got feelings of inadequacy. I swear that important love is missing from not only her, but the whole damn family. something is direly wrong. this event only proves my point. she is grasping at straws. desperate to get another chance. the world is dimming on her. What i have done to her, abandoning her -- was rightous and cruel. in a sense, but it was also partly natural because i was young. after all, can you blame kids? maybe. blame society. blame the world, the environment. blame jerry springer, marilyn manson, bob dole, bob dylan, the beats, the beatles. blame tv. blame puddin pops and nike.

so what did i do. i made my little attempt to make her feel well, over the phone. encouraging her, congratulations! at that point, it was all about easing her pain. i've never (or rarely) heard her so meek, so unsure of what she's done. and what can you do, when you hear your mother filling up with self-doubt. How can anyone dare to point a finger? this person above all people, life-giver. not a chance. you can't get around it, so you just comfort as best you can. And so even though i feel bile coming up through my teeth, i try to rub her back (in a sense) over the telephone wire, and say,"don't worry, it'll be ok -- you done good."

i wish i could express first - hand feelings as they come to me, instead of waiting like two years later to put them in some letter and send them like a snivling coward. then i could tell her face to face what i thought about her stupidities. and what i loved about her motherlyness. and all of it would just resolve it self quicker. Hypocrit! (pappazon points the finger back at himself)

but all in all, i guess this is just kind of really funny. we'll look back and smile. yes we we will. its only a little eccentric thing, this tuck business. on more exciting news, well, lets just say there is a great deal of excitement going on. just not going to get to it this entry. love me.