And Then There Were Two

We received a couple of packages the other day from my mother in Ohio. The one with my name on it was partly torn open so I went ahead and opened it. I rarely receive anything from my mother. She usually just sends things for my daughter, Cherokee. So even though pink isn't my favorite color, I was quite pleased with the set of flannel pajamas. I hate to be cold and I like to be comfy and a set of warm and comfy pajamas is a delight to me. And for a few minutes, I thought better of my mother who has often gone out of her way to make my life more difficult with attempts to flat out ruin my whole life.

The second package was for my daughter and I sat it under the table our Charlie sits on. Charlie is what we call our little tree in honor of Charlie Brown's little Christmas tree. It's small and without decorations doesn't look like much. But after I decorate him, I'm always pleased with how wonderfully bright and hopeful he looks. In the past, I have happily shared pictures of him on my Facebook page.

I went downstairs to get a shower, because I had just gotten off of work before I made my stop at the post office after work to discover we had received packages. I washed and dried my new pajamas and took them fresh and warm from the drier after my shower. Then I took a nap.

I got up from my nap feeling pretty good. And as I brushed my teeth, my daughter called down to me that she had opened the package my mother had sent. I didn't expect her to leave it until Christmas, she's just not patient like that. And it turns out it wasn't meant to be saved for Christmas. It was a Christmas care package of a sort and it contained a small purple tree that's just a little taller than Charlie. We decided to call her Violet and set her up on the table with Charlie so Charlie now has a girlfriend. I was quite pleased. Purple's my favorite color and I wouldn't have picked out a purple tree for us because that's too commercial for my taste, but I like Violet and I think she looks cute with Charlie.

Then my daughter handed me the card my mother had included because it was in cursive and reading cursive gives her trouble. So I read it out loud to her and quickly went from happy and pleased to frustrated and angry. The letter my mother had written inside the card for my daughter went on about how she new we never had a Christmas tree and how selfish I was and whomp, whomp, whomp, lie, lie, lie.

My daughter blew it off. She won't hesitate to tell you that Granma is crazy. For years I didn't bother speaking with my mother because I'd had enough of her craziness and lies long ago. So from about 4 or 5 until she was in her teens, my daughter had no contact with my mother. And the first thing my daughter said after her first phone conversation with my mother in her teens is "Granma is crazy." My daughter has Asberger's Syndrome, a form of Autism, but she's not stupid in the least.

Me? I don't think it's crazy so much as the woman is just flat out mean, evil and hateful. And for some reason she doesn't believe I have a right to a life that's any better than hers was. What kind of parent doesn't want better for their child? I don't deserve my hair, my skin, my eyes, my children and above all, I don't deserve to have a good solid loving relationship with a man because she never had one.

When it comes to men, the woman is a shit magnet. And she's left me with such a strong distrust of men that I have a hard time letting anyone get close. And most men don't have the patience necessary to give me the time I need to get comfortable and warm up to them. And when I do finally warm up to someone, he finds that I am so damaged that he doesn't want to risk having a relationship with me. They're afraid I may have a violent temper when as long as you don't cheat on me and are as faithful to me as I'm being to you, you're not in danger of losing any body parts. Don't try to beat me and I won't kill you while you sleep. Treat me like a queen and create heaven on earth for me and I will be your angel. That's not too much to ask, is it?

So my mother's lying letter dredge up a lot of negative emotions and unhappy memories for me. And my daughter blew it off. I wish I could blow it off just as easily. I just wish my mother would learn that if you're going to tell someone a lie, you should make sure they don't know the truth first. And now we have two Christmas trees. And the tote she sent the second tree in is big enough for both trees to be stored in, which is cool because I was thinking I needed something better than the old cardboard box I've been putting Charlie away in for years.