Day 79: Just realized this photo must’ve been taken shortly before my parents divorced. Anyway, that’s Mom and me dressed for a Brownies troop meeting. Never made it to Girl Scout like Jill. The black car belonged to my grandparents, who hated my dad, so I’m sure we were in the midst of a delightful visit. I remember the smell of their car, garage, little green house Grandpa built fifty some years ago. Same scent: clean, hint of lemon, almost minty. The land yacht parked behind was our Ford Galaxy 500. Steph’s dad had one in forest green. Man, I was such a deep sleeper, I actually slept through an accident in that tank. Slid off the back seat onto the floor. Dad had to wake me so it could be towed. Good times…

I chose this photo of Mom with me as a kid because you need your mom a lot growing up. Even after you’ve grown up (ostensibly), you need her. I learned this (again) today when I asked her to fly down to help me with my “big move.” And not just help. Support. I needed her emotional and physical presence. I have dear friends who’d rather drown than ask for a lifejacket. I get it; I lived it. It’s very annoying. Talk about feeling helpless. That’s karmic payback for you.

So the relief was palpable when Mom emailed the earliest she could come. That’s fine, Mom, I wrote. It’s going to be fine.

Lack of communication is unhealthy.

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