I killed a worm and I lost it. (Not the only thing I don't have in common with Katy Perry.)
Mother's Day weekend tends to be an emotional train wreck for me. Mostly people don't know that, but sometimes my cra-cra peeks out from under my wig. Like when I sob over dead bugs on the porch, sing too loudly in the yard, dance too vigorously in the car or in yoga class, or write letters apologizing for long forgotten insults and injuries.
My efforts to tend my own delicate psyche today included gardening, exercising, and making my wants and needs known to my family. I left a note for the Fam and started the therapy session in the garden.
That's where it happened. I killed a worm. True story.
Killing worms is always a worrisome thing for me. Mostly that's because I never fail to reach for it, wonder if it might be a snake, draw my hand back in horror, tell myself that is the stupidest thing I've ever wondered, and then wonder if that worm has a family. How will they survive without the Momma Worm? "My God, What have I done?" That that thinking leads to a death spiral of thoughts about my own mom. Like the worm, she's dead. (I did not cut her in half with a shovel.) Her family did ok without her. Lots of things actually got easier without her. About the only thing that didn't was my birthday. More than twenty years later, I still wish she was around on my birthday. For all she did wrong (and apologized vehemently for) she did do birthdays right. I still like to give other people gifts on my birthday. I sometimes tell kids "you should thank your mother today- you don't even remember it. All you did was cry that day. And ruin her body. and probably her marriage and any hopes she had of becoming a movie star". I don't say ALL of that. Just the first part. She would bring ice cream out to all of my friends while we played kickball in the vacant lot between our house and the apartment complex behind us. She encouraged a love of the Birthday.
Sott hates it when people wear "it's my birthday"pins. I've secretly always wanted to wear a sign and a big hat with blinking lights. I love birthdays not just mine- every ones'. I wish strangers happy birthday. I honk at the "honk -it's my birthday" signs painted on car windows. I sing-along in restaurants when some poor sap has to wear the lobster hat. I guess I am needy. And dramatic.
These are more of those things I never wanted to be; but I am. (see also: post on motherhood)
Someone called me dramatic a while back and it hurt my feelings. Really bad. She also told one of my best friends she'd had enough of my kid- hoped she wouldn't be in the same class as hers again the next year. In the True dramatic "oh no she ditn't" fashion I called her on it. Literally called her on the phone. Asked if what I'd heard was true and what my kid had done to be so offensive. (My girl is just like me- 'nuff said) but I've been angry ever since. Not rolling over boiling angry. Just a low simmer that scalds me every now and then. I forgave her a couple of times. The first was right away when she apologized on the phone. I forgave again when I said something snarky about another friend's kid. That forgiveness was quickly dismissed because I didn't say it to the kids mom is best friend. OK, I'm petty too.
More drama came yesterday. Wait for it. I forgave again. No, I never forgot and never will. that would be stupid. (shut up church people, I will punch you in the boob)
I can't forget -that's not even realistic. Ask my kids to forgive my screaming like a maniac and then kicking the door. That's not forgettable. But they forgave me. They do it all the time. They are much more decent human beings than I ever hoped to be. I had trouble forgiving a dirty look my mother once gave me.
Forgiving is pretty fantastic. Amazing. Dramatic. It took me 17 or so times. I'm pretty sure this one took the weight is lifted. There was something about that worm. It was probably someone's mom. That's why I lost it. I've spent the day burying the dead things bulbs. Dead worms. Old hatchets. ...excuses for not honoring my mom.
I killed a worm and I lost it. Not the only thing I don't have in common with Katy Perry. I'm trying some new things in my life like moderation and consistency. Thanks to my coach.
By the way when I was seven I kissed squirrel and I liked it. True story. Oh, and my birthday is this week. (Also true). Send me some love on snapchat. Or sing along at the restaurant. I'll be eating out four meals .