Becoming my Mother

One of the earliest memories I have with my mom is an anatomy lesson.  I can't remember what I asked, but it must have been about babies.  I remember her saying:

"Hold out your fist.  You have a uterus, and it's about the size of your fist.  That's where a baby grows."

 

Completely enamored by this thing called a uterus, I did not think of a follow up question as to how a baby would find its way into a uterus.  My lack of critical thinking skills at 4 is not the point though.  My mom tells the truth, and as I grew up I learned to live in my own truth, and grew to appreciate the transparency my mom encouraged. 

I don't remember the exact moment I learned about suicide, but I grew up knowing what it was.  My maternal grandmother committed suicide the year before I was born.  This was a fact of life as I grew up, and is a piece of my history too.  I grew up with a mom who encouraged us to take an emotional inventory regularly, and to distinguish between the typical fleeting sadness and hopelessness. 

My mom is a badass, and the thing I admire most about her is her honesty, even when I don't want to hear it.  She is a badass bitch, and a solid human being who is filled with wisdom, rationality, while also serving as huge source of encouragement for all of the life decisions I seem to make on a whim.

I'm getting to the point in life where little things I do (typically things that drove me insane growing up) make me realize I'm becoming my mother.  One time in a cleaning frenzy I recycled the registration for our community car in JVC, and had to ask my program coordinator to go to the DMV to get another one.  I'm becoming my mother.  Whenever I turn on my headlights while driving when it's daytime I think of my mother.  All of the times I lose my phone in the giant bag of food I carry around with me to work and school, and assume it's lost for good--I am my mother.  When I let out a long line of expletives because I'm excited, I think of her then too. 

My maternal grandmother used to say to my mom, "you inherited all of my bad qualities, cholera!"  I will happily take what I have previously rolled my eyes about, as long as I get to continue growing in a similar way, into the person she is becoming. 

Also, my mom (and whole family) pretended to like me when this was how I acted on vacation regularly.  Me being 15 was hard for everybody.*  So, yeah, I think they're pretty great.

*please note my black nailpolish