Mom | plaid's Blog
When I think of my mom when I was a kid, I always see the back of her head. I see her sitting at the big, boxy CCTV that allowed her to read college textbooks. I remember her learning to use the thing. In retrospect it's kind of odd. Granted, she had too much vision to be comfortable reading Braille. And textbooks on tape (though she had them) had to be a pain in the azz. But still. I know how little vision she has. It ain't much.
So all of my childhood memories of her prominently feature the back of her head while she pores over some textbook.
"How can you flunk third grade math when your mother aced college Statistics fucking blind?"
Dad yelled that at me. My grades were terrible. She got all A's. It sucks to be a child forced into competition with your own mother.
In a way, the best times with her were in Nebraska. Before she got the transplant, and then after, when she'd lost her vision but before we moved to Missouri. Before the transplant she was really sick, but always had time to read to me. Well, kind of. She still had to do all the stuff to be a Perfect Pastor's Wife. So a lot of those memories are of the back of her head, too. Studying and preparing Sunday School lessons, or preparing for some Bible study.
But after she went blind, after the transplant and after the virus that nearly killed her claimed as it's fee her eyes, there were good times there. She needed me. She needed my help because she didn't yet know how to manage blind.
I was six.
And seven. We moved to Missouri when I was seven. But she lost her eyesight when I was six. She couldn't read to me anymore, but I got a little more attention. A little more affection. I got to read to her; a nice reversal of roles.
Even after she'd graduated, I saw the back of her head a lot. Or nothing at all. She'd got mobility the way some people get religion. That white cane freed her like nothing else ever could. She'd walk so fast that the metal tip drew sparks from the pavement.
But I still never saw her. At home she was too wiped to talk. Or we'd play cards but the games got so competitive that it wasn't really mom-daughter time.
So yeah. How pathetic is it that the only time I really had full and complete access to my mother is when she was deathly ill?
Previous PostsBoston Bomb... Why???????????, posted April 15th, 2013
Updating my poor, neglected blog, posted March 29th, 2013
Hurts So Good, posted January 25th, 2013
Name-Brain, posted December 17th, 2012, 2 comments
Commercial Complaint, posted December 8th, 2012
Cutting (trigger: self-harm), posted November 13th, 2012
Mom, posted November 10th, 2012, 1 comment
Here I go again, posted October 4th, 2012
I hate September, posted September 10th, 2012
Scared to Sleep, posted August 25th, 2012
Nurse nonsense and ED rubbish, posted August 7th, 2012
Body memories....uggggggh, posted June 11th, 2012, 2 comments
Awkward great-bargian moment, posted June 8th, 2012
Now that's depressing!, posted June 6th, 2012
Awful, posted May 27th, 2012, 1 comment
Mother's Day, posted May 13th, 2012, 2 comments
Not really here..., posted May 5th, 2012, 3 comments
Checking in, posted April 28th, 2012
Stepping away, posted April 5th, 2012, 1 comment
Claiming my vision, posted March 17th, 2012
Pride swallowed, posted March 10th, 2012
Contemplating departure, posted March 1st, 2012, 1 comment
Gonna pay for this..., posted February 15th, 2012
Struggling, posted February 12th, 2012
Argh!, posted February 5th, 2012
I'm doing it again..., posted February 4th, 2012
E-freaking-nough already?, posted January 19th, 2012
What the hell....?, posted December 9th, 2011
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Getting nervous, posted December 4th, 2011
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Holy Fury IV, posted November 20th, 2011
???????, posted November 17th, 2011, 2 comments
Odd, posted November 16th, 2011
Piecing pieces, posted November 13th, 2011
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Doctor day, posted October 14th, 2011
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Therapy thoughts, posted September 16th, 2011
Art Start, posted September 12th, 2011
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Bad, sad Plaid, posted September 10th, 2011
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Ramble, posted September 3rd, 2011
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