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[quote=Anonymous]No one told me how hard it’d be to lie about missing my mom. Yesterday a neighbor remarked that it’d be the first Christmas without my mom and I got emotional, had to hold back tears. She died six months ago but I am, above all, relieved. This is especially true now, at Christmas. Having her visit — or visiting her — out of obligation was murder. It was dead time, time wasted, and I felt trapped — angry like a caged animal in the wild. Sure, I had trouble connecting with my mom — she was elusive, something of a mystery during my childhood — but she was kind and decent; she meant no harm. As I write this, it occurs to me that for much of her life she too was trapped. In her case, an unsatisfying marriage that she finally had the courage to end when I was in my mid-twenties (I am 55 now). She came alive after the divorce and lived happily and fully then: traveling, dancing, her social calendar was packed. But I was already far away, in the big city, consumed with my own life and career and problems. There was little between us. I tried connecting — to be a good son, that stifling sense of duty! — but conversation was stilted and often I was impatient with her, slightly rude. I’d feel guilty then; the cycle repeats. This is not how I’m supposed to feel — and it (still) saddens me to say this — but: I am free, free at last, thank god almighty I’m free at last! Fire away. [/quote]

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