For Mom...
I know I haven't been the best daughter lately. I don't visit with you enough and I lose my patience very easily. I guess I'm still adjusting to our new relationship and sometimes its harder than others. Part of me still wants to be the little girl you rescue and assure and take care of, but I know I'm too big for that and it's my turn to do that for you if you need it. But really, you don't need rescuing. You are the smartest, strongest, most resilient person I know...
I love that you are human. That you have always been human and always acknowledged your imperfections. I remember finding your journal when I was in the 8th grade and we lived in Groves. I probably shouldn't have snooped and what I read was very personal, but it was also comforting to realize that you were a person outside of a mom. Everything you did, you did for me and Linz, and I know now how easy it is to lose yourself in that. You never ever lost yourself, but you never put being a mother second.
Growing up, I was so proud of you. Some kids are embarassed of their mothers, but I always wanted to show you off. You were the prettiest, smartest, funniest and coolest mom in the whole world. You let me dress myself however I wanted, even if it made you cringe to see me wear the same sweatshirt for 10 consecutive days. You let me be tardy for class that one day in the 8th grade because "Suicide Blonde" came on the radio just as we pulled up, but since we both liked it so much, we parked and sang along with INXS until the song was over.
I also remember being grounded constantly, and for that I am very thankful. You instilled in me a strong sense of what was right, and I grew up to learn that sometimes you do the right thing for the right reasons, and not just so you won't get in trouble. You always made it clear that yes, you were cool and I could come talk to you about anything, but you were still my mom... not my friend.
Eventually you did become my friend. I will always cherish our smoky talks in the house on Kings Walk... You sitting in your bed and me in the wicker chair close by. Cigarettes and diet Coke flowing between us as we shared stories, secrets, laughter. You admitted past mistakes that I didn't realize, and you let me know how proud you were of the woman I was becoming.
When we almost lost you, I thought I would die. I didn't know how I would go on without my momma, my friend, my equal, my confidante. I am so grateful that you didn't die, but it made me realize that I do need to go on without you. Well, not without you of course, but I needed to give you some space to be something other than my mom. You needed to be Barbara for a change, and not my symbiotic other half. It's been hard, but I love the shape our relationship is taking, even if it's still rough around the edges. You'll always be my best friend, biggest supporter, and my oracle for which I seek most answers. I'll always admire your intelligence, your fighting spirit, and your ability to conquer all... even if you don't think you have any of that anymore. You do and I love you for it.