Pushing against society's constraints

So much of what I read about death and dying and grieving can be summed up with, "give yourself time." None of us has a timetable on tears. We all experienced a different relationship with Mom. We all had moments when she drove us insane. And if we put on our thinking caps, we can honestly say we drove her crazy too.

Like the time I had a birthday party and 495 was not complete yet. She wouldn't let us go beyond the first bridge. But I did. It was a warm and sunny evening, first day of summer, and my girlfriends and I wanted to be where the action was and the action was uptown. Not out in the sticks where we lived. Mom was furious with me because I deliberately disobeyed the rules. I pushed against authority and fought against the stringent - and what I thought at the time were stupid - boundaries she set. Like why couldn't I go to a high school dance. Or why couldn't I get my driver's license until I was 17 And any number of ways she tried to keep me close by her side when I was fighting to be free. But if I think about it, I became a teen only a couple of years after Freddie died. She did not want to lose another kid. That was the grief and her fear she was dealing with on top of menopause that was fast approaching. I was pushing against what she could handle in her grief of losing a son.

Our relationship took a big hit when I left John. She was so mad at me. I tried to explain that I felt as if I were drowning, smothered and I could not breathe. I knew I was losing myself, getting swallowed up and I had to come to terms with how I wanted to live, not how I was expected to live. It took a couple of years before we could talk about it. But over the course of her living here in Charlotte, we talked a lot about how we both went through divorce around the same time and for a lot of the same reasons and we both felt regret for how we handled things. Our similarities were a big part of why we clashed a lot.

She had a way of pushing against the constraints of society. Just the fact that she did not want us to have a funeral or a memorial service was her way of living life on her terms. I wonder if I have the guts to live the rest of my life like that. Society be damned, I'll do it my way! I'd like to think so.