I dreamt last night that I lost some of my friends.
I think it's because I've been considering signing on to the "Kind Blog" ring, and my post yesterday was far less than kind.
I don't think I was particularly mean, as much as just getting some poisonous things out of my head and heart.
Anyway, in the dream I was taking my friend...we'll call her Mel.... and her husband to our local amusement park. I was driving, but they somehow had their own car, too. My madre was talking with them, and said something that offended them, then they were asking her to change the subject, and she didn't, and they asked again, and she didn't, and eventually they said "We're leaving."
I was crushed.
Next was something else that I cannot recall, but along the same lines.
Next came a permanent severance (from the same sort of thing) of the friendship with my dear Sam.
I'm not blaming my mother, you understand.
I believe I had the dream because I am feeling guilty and selfish and shallow and self-inflated about the things I expressed yesterday.
I think maybe I just have a different sort of expression than my mother does.
For instance - my mother expects and puts a great deal of stock in greeting cards. She says that she'd rather have the card than the gift.
I hardly ever give cards.
When I do, they're hand written (even at Christmas/Yule), and never just signed at the bottom.
Not that I don't understand the importance and value in a well-picked card, for I do.
But I just don't think that something pre-packaged is all that personal.
So - to make sense of all this hullabaloo -
I am feeling guilty.
I am trying to make sense of my need to express my resentment over her not welcoming certain (important!) parts of me.
It's hard for me to imagine not caring what my children are up to.
What calls them, enchants them, intrigues them, and fulfills them.
Maybe you just get to a certain point - when your child reaches adulthood (I've been an adult for quite some time)- that you become unattached to their interests. Especially if you feel that at this grand ol' age of 62 (a very young 62!) that you are finally coming into your own.
That this is the time for you to find out what you're about.
That others' truths just complicate things, that the focus needs to be on "me".
Maybe I just need to allow her to live her truth.