A Mother's Love

2006 was a milestone year for me. Through a series of independent experiences, I finally began to really understand the impact my decisions and actions have on the people who love me. This is an important realisation for everyone, but is particularly useful for anyone wanting to be a good partner, daughter and friend.

C and I decided to go on our first holiday together. Rather than choosing a secluded weekend away in the familiar Scottish Highlands, we got a cheap last-minute deal to spend a week Goa, India. It was a freezing January in Scotland, so why not?

Our flight from Gatwick was delayed, so we filled those couple of hours by filling (and re-filling) our wine glasses. By the time we boarded the plane we were very merry indeed and I promptly fell into a drunken slumber with my head on my tray table. I awoke about an hour later and got up to go to the toilet. At this point it all goes a bit fuzzy, but I do remember seeing some shocked passengers’ faces as the world closed in around me and I plummeted, unconscious, into the aisle halfway between my seat and the galley. From what I gather, the flight crew scooped me up, took me to the back of the plane and brought me around. I was pretty embarrassed, but accepted a big bottle of water and sat up for a few minutes before very quickly passing out again, pouring the entire contents of the water onto myself and the floor around me.

Around this time a very camp steward was waking C up to let her know her ‘friend’ had just passed out and was at the back of the plane. She was understandably concerned as she approached me laying in a puddle of liquid with my feet in the air and an oxygen mask on my face.

I tried to make light of the situation at the time, making jokes through the oxygen mask, but I was struck by the look of desperation and helplessness on C’s face as she approached and the relief that washed over her as she watched me recover. I’d been in a horrific jet ski accident when I was 16 and remember very clearly the same look on my Mom’s face as she rushed me through the rural roads of Illinois to the hospital. Medical emergencies, no matter how small, always inspire us to look at things from a new perspective. Although she jokes about it at parties, C isn’t far from the truth when she says she truly demonstrated her love by kneeling down in what she thought was my urine to take my pulse and comfort me.

It wasn’t all heavy, though - we had a lot of fun, after that! We took a walk along Calangute Beach that Sunday. It was packed with locals and a group of boys were playing football (soccer). Their ball got away from them and I tried to show off by kicking it back – barefoot Beckham style. Rather than going anywhere near where I intended it to go, the ball careened toward a family walking toward us. Fortunately the husband ducked in time to avoid it, but left his unsuspecting wife, walking behind him, completely open. Needless to say the ball intersected with this woman’s face. C nearly collapsed in a puddle of her own urine, laughing uncontrollably as I desperately apologised. She knew in that moment that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me – she had never laughed more in life with anyone else.

I could write for days about how magical that first holiday was, but the point is that we both realised in that week that we love living our lives together. Every crazy experience was heightened by the fact that we shared it. We truly became partners on that holiday and every trip we’ve taken since then has reinforced our bond.

Things continued to develop back in our day-to-day lives as well. My voluntary placement was going very well and I began to see the links between my MSc dissertation topic and a potential career in urban planning. I was urged by a colleague at the national charity to apply for a job with a planning consultancy based on the skills I was demonstrating and this inspired me to think about getting a qualification that might actually lead to something. I found an MSc course at Heriot-Watt University in Edinburgh that was a perfect fit.

My Mom turned 60 that March, but I wasn’t there for the celebration. Her present to herself was a passport (she is now one of only 22% of Americans to have one) and a ticket to come see me. As the date of her arrival approached, I grew increasingly nervous about how I was going to introduce her to my life in Edinburgh. I knew by the time she had left here, I would have finally come out to her.

She arrived in the middle of May for a 3 week stay. The day after her arrival, two of my good friends registered their civil partnership. I was honoured to be asked to be a witness for their ceremony and had accepted before my Mom told me she was coming. So I told her I had an appointment in the afternoon and I left her shopping on the Royal Mile with a mobile phone and instructions to answer it when I called.

I met C at the registry office and we both celebrated as our friends made a lifelong commitment to each other in a beautiful and very moving ceremony. We all went along to a local al fresco pub to celebrate and I phoned my Mom to find out where she was.

She didn’t answer the phone.

11 times.

By the time she did answer she was panicked – she was jet lagged and thirsty and not totally sure where she was. I managed to figure out she was just around the corner from us and went to meet her. She suggested we go back to where I had been so she could get a Diet Coke and sit down. I literally had 40metres to explain to her she was about to join a lesbian wedding reception. I said something to the effect of, this is a rather eccentric group of people to which she simply responded “I understand.”

My Mom impressed me a lot in the following hour. She joked and laughed with everyone there and showed off all the things she’d discovered in shops up and down the Royal Mile. Afterward, C drove us up Arthur’s Seat so Mom could take in perhaps the best view of the city and we went to the Shore for dinner. Mom seemed so relaxed, but I felt sick as C dropped us off at my flat because I knew I was about to have the conversation with my Mom that I had been avoiding for years.

By this time I had moved out of my friend’s front room and into a beautiful tenement in Edinburgh’s New Town. Unfortunately the charm of the flat was outweighed by the general neglect normally given to older shared-tenant properties in the city. It was a cold, damp place for most of the year. As we sat in the lounge room I muttered something to the effect of “C’s not just my friend, she’s my partner” and “I’ve always wondered if you’ve known I’m not straight”. But I was completely blown away when, after a few moments of silence, my Mom said “You are my daughter and I love you. I will try to figure out how to be okay with this.”

The following week we went to Galway in Ireland. We didn’t talk much about my revelation and whenever I brought up C Mom would get noticeably uncomfortable. That weekend, back in Edinburgh, we had a big fight. I had asked if it would be okay if I spent some time that evening with C, and Mom got upset. She had, after all, come all this way to see me. I said a lot of things I regret in that exchange, but fortunately I listened to what she told me:

Almost every day my Mom had no idea what I was doing, if I was happy or if I was even alive. I had shut her out completely and she had no point of reference in my life anymore. She knew I had been holding back and now that she knew why, it was going to take some time for her to come to terms with it all. She felt lied to and used. I had always gotten what I wanted from her and I had given her nothing in return for the last 3 years.

She was trying to meet me more than halfway by travelling across the world to be a part of my life abroad, if even for a short time. She wanted to be able to go back and picture me doing normal things in her head. I was asking her to instantly accept all the things I had hidden from her for all this time; she was at least owed the time to transition into this.

I respected her feelings more appropriately after that and we spent the week travelling up the west coast of Scotland to Skye. It was a magical trip and we were both more relaxed around each other and laughed a lot. I got to know my mother again in that week and do you know what I realised? In spite of me trying to hide from her, she had always known me better than I knew myself. When we got back to Edinburgh, she asked me to invite C to the movies with us to see the Da Vinci Code (we’d already visited Roslyn Chapel). That was the first indication of her acceptance and it meant the world to me.

Before she left, my Mom told me she would pay for me to get yet another university degree, even though it meant another year away from the USA, and away from her. She told me she knew I was happy here – otherwise why would I stay? She made me promise that I would try harder to keep in touch with everyone. I had a responsibility in this relationship, too, after all.

When I came back from seeing her off, I found this note on my pillow.

Thanks for showing me a great time. Now I will be able to picture lots of things easier. I know you will do great at university and that you are happy to be in. It is a big accomplishment and we are proud of you! Remember you are very cherished and loved by Grandma and me.

Stay in touch better. We miss you tons.

All my love!!

Hugs and Kisses!! (from Grandma too)

Mom

The void left by her absence lingered for weeks...