Mother, Mother

I don't know about you, but sometimes I have to wonder just where my insanity stems from.

Figured it out.

My mother.

We tend to take on the traits of our family.

On the drive up to my mother's retiring abode, I had to do my best to keep my mother low on the road rage attitude.  I worked on my anger issues enough that I was able to explain that getting mad about a situation won't change it, all that will happen is you will harm yourself.

Her aggitation started out 2 minutes from my house with a traffic jam because of a police incident.  My mother was getting so frustrated she almost honked at the police.

sounds very familiar

I had to pacify her short fuse throughout the entire 5 hour drive up to the Okanagan.  What really made me giggle however, was the O.C.D. that ruled her existence the moment we stepped in the door.

Dusting, cleaning, busy, busy, busy.  She just wouldn't stop.  She hadn't even taken off her scarf yet!  She cleaned the same spot for about 10 minutes.  A spot that I didn't notice had anything on it.

memories ... mother grabbing my hand and pushing the cleaning rag with rage, as if to pull my arm out of it's socket in an effort to punish me, "THIS IS HOW YOU CLEAN A COUNTER!!!!!"

I'm not a neat freak, but I definitely get obsessed with certain things; numbers, music, exercise and making everything symmetrical.

it must be even dammit!!!

There were also times that we would have the same hand gesture at the same time, and say the same things in the same breath.  Occasionally, I felt like we were two fish in a school, turning our heads with the same look on our face like twins.

The crazy part is, I'm not close with my mother.  I see her maybe 4 times a year.  I forgive her for being the abusive person she has been in the past, but I'm still not close with the less than maternal person.

She also has an overbearing homophobic husband who will demand her every breathing moment, and do his very best to keep my mother away from the sinful dyke.

the feeling of offense is mutual muther-fucker (pun intended)

I tried to ease my way in with talk about Papi's male transformation.  I showed her that I was wearing my love's engagement ring and she was shocked, wanting to know why on earth mi esposo wasn't wearing it?!??!?!?!?

"Mom, do you know much about transgendered people?"

"No, I have never really understood that."

"Well, it's a person who has both gender traits in one body."  I asked her if she ever noticed that my love looks more like a male, and my mother laughed as in, 'duh'!

I helped her understand transgendered people by talking about Papi being a 'masculine woman', and that there are also men who are feminine.  That helped a little.

more memories of growing up with my family's homophobic slander of gay men

I explained that some people will be hermaphrodites.  My mom had never really even heard of this.  I told her of the person having both the organs of a male and a female.  She seemed quite uncomfortable with this, so I was sure to let her know that Papi isn't one of them.

I made clear that Papi has more male attributes and is feeling drawn toward the masculine side.  I disclosed that an engagement ring is something worn by a female, hence I get to wear it until it's time for my jaw surgery.  At that point, we will sell the ring.

She got it.

This was the first day of actually defending Papi.  I felt like my mom was closer to understanding and I was closer to helping one person out of their fear, phobia, and any other feeling that would cause hate or disgust.

Monumental.

I'm really healing.

Next step, the 5 foot vagina.