Mom's Super Powers

From as far back as I can remember, I thought my mom walked on water.  She most likely would disagree based on my behavior from the ages of 13-20 but in actuality, that's a really small window of my life.  Being an only child, she and I have always had this incredible bond.  There are no words to describe it at all.  I've tried to articulate my feelings but, the only people who understand are other only children.  Of course, it's not necessarily the bond with their mom but they do have that bond with at least one parent.

No one, absolutely no one, can get to me like my mom does.  Her ability to lay guilt on me is worthy of gold medal status.  She can give me knots in my stomach based only on the tone in her voice.  I can conjure up a whole scenario about why she may be upset with me and why the guilt trick is being pulled. The woman has a gift.  A talent.  The skill has been passed down for generations in my family.  Some of us have an immunity to it, but sadly, I fall victim every time.  Although I avow to never do this to my own daughter, it's inevitable because it's in the genes, as well as my ethic background.  It's almost like my mom is a super hero with this unrivaled ability.

Don't get me wrong, my mom has many other amazing traits that outweigh this one.  Throughout her struggle with treatment, I've realized how calm she is (99% of the time).  I am a nervous wreck on chemo days.  Perhaps she is as well, but she doesn't show it.  I can't sleep the night before and it's pretty much the only thing on my mind until she calls me on her way home.  My inability to hide anxiety is debilitating to say the least.  There is no doubt in my mind she knows how upset I am, even though I struggle to hide it. Sitting at work, the time goes by so slowly until she finally calls.  This week, I was at work, as usual and trying to focus when she finally called-- to tell me she was reading "Shit My Dad Says" on her Kindle while getting her treatment and was laughing out loud (I wonder how well that goes over at the Cancer Center).  So, the good news is, she's laughing and is able to keep her mind off of what's really going on while I try to focus on my job.

Moving out of the basement has helped a great deal.  I would have thought it would give me more anxiety not being there to watch every breathe she takes but it doesn't. Out of sight, out of mind.  You see, I also have a super power-- I have an uncanny ability to just pretend bad things aren't going on...  It's not really denial-  it's just a purely erasing thoughts from my mind. Denial is completely different.  This is a tactic I perfected when my dad was sick.  It's a skill I have tried to teach others but, no one can master it.

The treatment is winding down now.  Only one more chemo treatment to go and then the recovery period will begin before the surgery.  I hope to be able to draw from her calmness to keep me sane.  I don't blame my father for anything--- in my eyes, he was perfect-- but damn him for giving me the anxiety gene.