My Sickness Turns Into Boundless Gratitude and Love for my Mother

Waking up this morning, I found that I’m still sick. Like the title says, less so, but I think half of me was expecting to wake up and find the closest doctor examining me while exclaiming “Incredible! You’re the first person to never get sick again!”

So, I can breathe much better than yesterday, but I am a far cry from doing cartwheels down the hallway. (As is my usual day-to-day.) But, I got work off and spent the day relaxing…

Just kidding! The minute I got a notion of a second wind, I called my mom (Hi, mom!) and went on a walk for about an hour with her.

Honestly, those walks have been the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m not sure when exactly they started—she was walking long before I ever joined her for years, just because she’s a terminator like that. All I know is that the opportunity to get that level of one-on-one time with her for literal years has been a real gift.

The conversations have spanned from the deep (always circling back to how we analyze the shortcomings of both society and those affected by it), the extremely one-sided (romance novels and my apparently very strong feelings on the Central Asiatic Expedition of the Second Dinosaur Rush), to just plain delightful (today we talked about what dog breed everyone in our family would be). Getting that look into each other’s lives has made us not only closer as family, but I would argue just better friends.

I’ve really enjoyed being able to hear about all of the ways she gets to experience the world. (“You’re not better than me! I’ll throw dirt on your dress!”). I think also it’s been a good insight for her.

I went through this really cool time called The Super Rad Mega Depression That Almost Killed Me. And because of that era, there was a fair chunk of time where most kids/teens discover their personalities and I instead lost mine. So, for a while neither of us knew what or who I was anymore.

I still remember one of our walks, a short while after I had begun my recovery from T.S.R.M.D.T.A.K.M (catchy!) and our conversation soon turned to poorly-hidden excitement on both of our ends when we realized that I had a favorite color again.

That’s been the greatest blessing of the walks. I’m learning about mom. She’s learning about me. And we’re both learning…how. Just in general. How to be mother and daughter, I guess? Or how to be human. I don’t know. But whatever it is, I’ve certainly enjoyed it.

I think there’s something inherently magical about the bonds between mothers and daughters. Some people–cough cough greta gerwig cough cough–get a little caught up in the difficult aspects. They’re consumed by the what ifs and what thens of reconciling the fact that you aren’t meant to be “only” a mother, or “just” a daughter. They get stuck on the part where daughter/mother/both is an identity, and not an identifier.

I like more the aspect of it that is timeless. Long ago, before fire had a name, there were certainly two women taking a walk much like ours, maybe gathering, maybe just walking. I bet they had conversations about all of the ways things were and how they might be. I bet they even talked about their favorite colors.

The other day was Mom’s birthday. I didn’t get to be there for it, except for when my aforementioned mild cold that I am being so modest and brave about brought her to my dorm so that she could bring me Afrin. A mother at work!

Anyway. This is all a very long-winded way to say that I love walking with her, and as long as it’s her that I get to talk to, I won’t get tired of the fact that it’s always the same trail. We are experts on Bridal Veil Falls now, I guarantee it.

I love you. (And I took that Afrin as directed. Thank you for bringing it.)