Mom and me
I moved back to New Orleans with one goal in mind, to be near my mother. For decades I had dreamed of making my mother happy. I imagined that if I could relocate her to a cute yellow house, with a lovely garden, that she would sit outside on the porch and have her coffee and listen to birds and be happy.
Years ago a friend of mine whose father was an alcoholic told me that one day I would focus on making myself happy and quit trying to take care of my mother.
A funny thing happened, along the way, I did start taking care of myself and I found out I am incredibly happy but I never lost the desire to rescue my mother.
When I did return to New Orleans I decided to take all that happiness, and the cute house and garden and enjoy the hell out of it. And to invite my mother into my life. And that I did. Parties, dinner parties, girls get togethers, champagne on the porch, Saturday lunches colored our time together. My friends became her friends. My life was always here accessible for her.
Now that I think back on all the factors that drove me to leave my comfortable life in California and return home, I think that my time here with my mother was all worth it. I don’t believe my mother will ever live independently again and every day that weighs on my heart because I know that of all the desires she has ever had it was to be independent.