Sometimes someone does something nice. It’s kind of a miracle, really, as there is so much fucking hate in this world. Oh, hell, I just spent a month bitching about pretty much everything. But I’m forcing myself to think about good things… trying to, anyway… because it seems my recent good mood is trying to slip away.
Is it just me or is a conversation with Mom always comforting? [I know, people have all sorts of relationships with their moms…] Well… my mom called last weekend. [This is not unusual – she calls every week… ish.] It was just to check in… to say hi. And it helped me. Maybe it’s because I love and miss that feeling of being a little kid… having Mom there to take care of me. I never had to worry about anything. [Until I was about 13… then I started to worry about everything whether warranted or not.] Back to Mom, though… Somehow, it almost doesn’t even matter what we talk about… Mom is just comforting. Oh, and she tells me good things about me. Many I don’t see in myself. Maybe it’s pathetic, but I need to hear it… completely unsolicited… because she just thinks it. I guess it’s what moms do.
[Aside: I didn’t post this thinking of Mother’s Day this weekend… I just realized the coincidence now.]
My father-in-law (fondly referred to as ‘Papa’) has been coming by our house for little chunks of time whenever he can to work on a shed he’s building for us in our backyard. It isn’t costing us anything… because he’s awesome… and because he enjoys building things… and because he needs to get the hell away from my needy, pain in the ass mother-in-law. [Of course, she is the reason for the multiple short visits. He can’t leave her alone for long periods… just in case she has an issue, whether truly health-related… or all in her head.]
You’d think Papa would love when my husband (let’s call him John) is home from work and can help. But Papa told him, in the nicest way he could, to go away… because Papa likes to work alone. That made me laugh. ‘I work alone,’ like Batman says. It was the nice version of, ‘Get out of my face.’ Those would have been my words, though. Papa’s were far kinder.
I’m hoping that when the shed is done, John will be able to live in it free up some space in the basement. That would really be a perk.
©2017 what sandra thinks