I can tell it’s gonna be one of those days. She’s driving me to school and she’s chatting incessantly about The Police vs Sting which evolves into punk vs crap. I can’t keep up but I smile and nod. She looks beautiful today. She had the energy to put color on her face, wash her hair, pull together a clean get up. It’s like she’s two people. Most days she’s so lethargic it’s a wonder she can find the strength to pull a drag from a cigarette.
Not today. Today she’s up up up. Head in the stars only she can see. Thank god for the seatbelt keeping her in place. The other day she was so weepy I thought we might both drown. I wish I had a middle of the road mommy. One who didn’t daydream about swerving into oncoming traffic. The kind that actually pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store instead of changing her mind and driving off at the last minute because it, “feels too much like walking around in public without any clothes on.” Peanut butter sandwiches again.
Then there’s the mom in front of me today. Aggressively cheerful. Prompting comments like, “you know, you’re a really upbeat person” or “you’re so friendly, thanks for making my day,” they don’t know the other side. And it makes sense to me that she can’t pull this off 100% of the time. Too draining. Insisting on being liked at minimum, if not loved by everyone she meets. Maybe if she could somehow find a way to love herself…
Just then the light turns red. She accelerates. We’re both airborne. Sailing through the velvety clouds in the atmosphere. She did it. We’re really flying now.