Sometimes, I wonder how I am really related to my family. Ever have those moments? I mean I look like my dad, I have my mom's features, and my sister and I looked like twins as children. Yet, I still don't see how I fit in.
My mom doesn't have my humor and didn't approve of me playing sports. However, we both bowl. While my mom introduced me to the sport and thinks she's the better bowler: it's just not true. My sister hates stuffed animals and sports.My dad always asked me when I was completing my undergraduate degree, what I was going to do with a journalism degree and he hates theatre and poetry. All their Zodiac signs aren't compatible with mine. I'm surrounded by Taurus, Virgo, and Pisces. Talk about having the astrological deck stacked against you. How did I survive? Was I adopted?
I realize my mom and I were brought up in different times, but the differences between us are astounding. While my mom values education and was hard on us to succeed, I realize she doesn't value my love for the arts, friendship, or having fun.
A lot of my friends have become family to me. My children know them as "aunts" and "uncles." Most of my friendships are at least 20 years old.
That fact freaks out my children and amazes my mom.
I know that in order to have friends, you need to be a good friend. I pride myself on that. I have helped out friends with everything from being sick and needing surgery to dealing with the loss of a loved one to bringing a new life in the world. When I became sick three years ago, I wasn't used to being the one who needed help. My friends stepped up to the challenge of making sure the kids and I were alright. I love them for that.
My mom really doesn't value her relationships or friendships. I don't know why. I try to attribute that to her upbringing. I'll just leave it at that.
My parents are from the generation of getting a good job that will last you your whole life. I tell my mom she is living in 1973 because those days are gone. I remind her that I have to do what is going to make me happy not her. I love to write, like to act, and enjoy the arts. In west Indian culture, my artsy world is "foolish." I beg to differ.
My mother doesn't have a clue how hard the writing world of journalism/blogs/novels
really is. That I may write as many as four drafts and a story still isn't right. Maybe it's a word choice. A verb tense or an active voice. While my mom thinks writing is easy; she should think again. I love the stories that write themselves. I really do.
While we look like mother and daughter, that's probably where our similarities end.
I may be my mother's daughter; I am definitely my own woman.
Posted By: Marsha Jones
Tuesday, January 18th 2011 at 1:42PM
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