December 17, 2008

Postcards From Yo Momma

WHAT! I just got the daughter's equivalent to a Dear John letter. No, my mom did not break up with me while I was away at war in 1944. She got married. F*cking A Scott! 

November 26, 2006: Almost exactly two years ago, I wrote an uncensored letter to my mom and never sent it. To sum it up, I feel like the responsible adult a lot of the times, like our roles are reversed. When I'm at home, I step up to the plate and put on a straight face. When I'm on my own, I'm reckless and moody because it's my way of dealing with the stress of holding it all together. My grandfather (her father) actually comes to me with advice about fixing things in the family and how I have to be responsible and not let them down. It was my job to get my angsty mom to stay in PA and not date him and to make sure my sisters know how to do the right thing and stay in school and not get tattoos. Clearly I failed in almost all of the above, so the least I can do now is get married soon to the perfect man with German roots, chivalry, a successful career, a good family, and knowledge about cars..... (I wish that was sarcasm)

So here's how the letter never sent ended: "I'm asking you to cut the crap, Mom. Stop bullshitting around and acting like a child. Stop pretending to be like the immature asshole you claim to want to spend your life with. Snap out of it. Do what you want, but let me know. Thanks." What I meant was TALK TO ME. Don't write to me after the fact. 

I've developed a poker face neutrality towards my mom's boyfriend after about 13 years of hell. When they move to Seattle, she already knows I won't go to her house unless I know for certain that he is out of the country on business and I have a copy of his plane ticket in my hands. I don't hate him. I feel bad for him, because he's so immature and hostile. I even stand up for him to my family who actually can't stand him. However, this would not be the kind of marriage I would celebrate with a glass of champagne and a tear and a giggle followed by some dancing to "Sweet Caroline." No, it's more like I will punch a pillow and vent in a blog, while the little sister freaks out and the middle sister takes shots of natural grain alcohol from a medicine dropper (we get a yearly supply for our Momma).

Maybe I should send this letter. Funny how it still applies, only now I can say "Congratulations on traveling to Reno last weekend to marry the only person in the world that makes my stomach contract and begin gnawing at itself as a sign that I should "Fight or Flight." I'm so happy I couldn't get ahold of you on Saturday and was worried about you all weekend because no one knew you were in Reno. Or maybe you were in Vegas. That's classy. Nice move. I talk to you almost everyday, yet you never thought to mention that, oh hey, I'm getting legally married this weekend. Thanks for the heads up. I'm sorry if I don't keep the lil memo you sent and I'm sorry if we post it online. If I were to stoop to your level, I would totally go to Vegas and get married and then send you a postcard. No, actually, to be fair, I would start wearing a ring and put a picture of me and a guy in front of a wedding chapel in the living room for the next 5 years and just make you wonder without answering questions. 

THEN I would send you a postcard. "Dear Mom, I want you to be happy always and follow your heart. I got married when I was 13 years old to someone I know you don't like. He's an asshole, but I'm in love and I see someone that no one else can see because I have divine perception. I'm going to move to Germany and change my name so don't bother staying in contact. I love you so much that I might give my next child your name as their middle name. Yes, I already have children too. I hid them in my closet. I love you always, more than you know, Ellyn xoxo"

I mean I knew this day would come, I just never thought I'd have to hear about it through my sisters who got little note cards bearing the news. I'm sure my letter is chillin' in the mailbox too, but I think I'll go take a nap now. All this fuss has rendered me exhausted. 

1 comment:

    Ok well you know that little guilt-trip thing she does? Yea uh last night when i went to tell her I was staying at Dad's this holiday, she was like aw don't you want to help me decorate the tree? GOD! Then we settled our differences, and I still went to Dad's. Sorry Ma. And whatever. So what if I'm dramatic. That's how I deal. P.s. You are hilarious.