Today is January 26th.
Maybe we all have certain dates that will always feel more meaningful to us... for me, January 26th will always mean "my mom's birthday," in spite of the fact that my mom passed away many years ago, in 2009.
My mom and stepdad's apartment complex in Spain, where they lived during their final years.
I suppose it's funny/ironic that I so often think about January 26th, given the extent to which my mother and I almost always were separated by great philosophical and geographical distances. She was "about" a lot of things that just grated interminably on my nerves... and even though many would insist that I "would get it once I got older," I'm now close to 65 and still waiting for that particular "Eureka moment."
There is much wisdom to suggest that when something grates on our nerves, it's a reflection of something we don't care for, in ourselves.
My mother mostly came across to me as superficial, manipulative, materialistic, status oriented, opinionated, often ignorant/ill-informed and judgmental. In some ways, she made Donald Trump look like a woke pink-haired liberal.
The rock of Gibraltar, from the runway at the Gibraltar airport, circa 2008.
What I also have come to realize is that she was haunted by much unresolved trauma... trauma that she refused to examine or in any way unpack, because she lived at a purely objective/practical layer of life and did not consider such things as self-contemplation something other than a completely self-indulgent waste of time.
And if other people had a problem with her, that was purely "THEIR problem."
She was a high functioning alcoholic who never admitted her addiction, yet somehow understood it well enough to always know to do her shopping in the morning, because she didn't start drinking until her sherry with lunch.
Whereas the above might sound like a harsh indictment of someone who's no longer here to defend themselves, I also know that my mother definitely "did her best," according to whatever code of behavior she believed constituted not only the right way to live, but also the right way to parent.
She taught me a sort of "radical self-reliance" that served me well on many occasions in life; I distinctly remember her saying — when I was maybe 15 and getting a lesson in mending clothes — "I'm not about to let some helpless man out into the world," referring to the (I suppose) large number of men she knew who were barely capable of making a cup of coffee, let alone doing a load of laundry!
In that sense, she definitely did pass along something worthwhile!
I also inherited my love of cooking and good food from her... along with the belief that there's little point in wasting money on eating out when you can make the same thing at home, so much better.
At the time I absorbed that fact, it was purely objective; these days it's more of a financial necessity. In later years, I have really come to see just how much people are willing to spend on convenience, often at the expense of quality.
Near my parents' place, circa 2009.
Sometimes I wonder what my mom would have thought about the world of 2025. She wasn't fond of technology; she reluctantly agreed to have a cellphone in her purse so she would be able to call someone, should she fall or have an accident while doing her daily grocery shopping.
But while she thought my instantaneous digital photos and my ability to send email back and forth to America in seconds were "amazing," she rejected the idea of even having a laptop so family and friends could stay in touch and share photos from around the world.
Although we essentially ended up being "somewhat at peace" with our radically differing worldviews, she never stopped pressuring me to "get a REAL job" and join the right golf and country club...
And that's pretty much all I have to say about it, anymore. My years of frustration and more than a little bitterness have been replaced by quiet reflection... such are the rose-colored lenses of passing time!
Thanks for stopping by, and have a wonderful remainder of your day!
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Created at 2025.01.26 13:17 PST
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