A day to myself... sortof

Yesterday the Kwanis Club honored the guys that went after the guy that attacked my sister. It was a big affair, and Sister wanted my mother and me to be there. The District Attorney of Los Angeles would be there, and other mucky-mucks. So, took the day off from work, after staying late Wednesday to create lesson plans for the sub, and left about 8:30 am to drive to Chatsworth.

We were in the car six minutes before my mother started complaining about work. Yeah, I timed it. I know this is what's going to happen whenever we are in a car for a while, heck, whenever I'm with my mother for a while. She complains. About her co-workers, her clients, the SUV that was riding her tail on the drive home, her demanding landlady/friend, the handyman, the grocery store clerk... there's always something.

I've been told myself that I complain too much, and it's a fear of mine that I'm just like Mom. I love her, but I wish she was happier. I do believe in the power of intention and focus. If one focuses on the bad things, that's all one will see, and you know... focus on the good stuff and...

So, I was trying to just zone out and let her be, not get too upset and uptight -- I thought about how I'll be on a plane next Friday, winging my way out to see my friend in NYC and then the other friend in Albany-- I thought about how I won't have to worry about making three pies and balancing them with a bottle of wine to get to my mother's house at 11:30 am on Thanksgiving morning, because she likes to eat early (and it seems to be getting earlier every year). I thought about how I've only missed four Thanksgivings with my family in my life. The three I spent in Japan, and one terrible one when I was 16 and hated everything.

There was a Thanksgiving, I think it was when I was 27, that I stormed out of my mother's apartment in tears. My brother and I were having an argument about something; he was probably trying to dissasuade me from being a teacher, and gosh, I can't even remember most of it now. I remember thinking Mom and Sister were ganging up with him on me, and repeating to myself on the drive home, "I can't be wrong about this, I can't be wrong..."


Oh yeah, it was a real important argument, I'm sure, since I can't even remember what exactly it was about.

Anyway. I love my mother, and I love my brother and sister. I'm glad I have the kind of family that I can count on, and I'm the kind of person my family can count on. My sister and I are getting along very well ever since she got attacked. It's kinda like we know what's important now.

However.

I am thrilled, that for one week, I don't have to worry about anything else but being a gracious houseguest.