A History of Love

Rather than write about my doings each day (which, let's face it, are rather uneventful anyway!), I guess it would be better to describe my thinkings. 

Today I thought about how odd it is that I can get so worked up about broaching a subject with my one remaining closest family member, so much so that I have been putting it off for weeks/months in order to spare myself the possible harsh words or heartaches.  I don't think it should be this way, but I don't know of it being any other way than this.

I never really understood family drama until it found me at the tender age of twenty-five, ankle-deep in my first serious relationship, unbeknownst to me at the time.  Pre-Florence I had never contemplated moving out of my parents' home because I had it good--delicious home-cooked meals, loving and supportive parents who would travel for 1-3 months per year.  Then Florence taught me that being able to walk to everything was nice, and that I could take care of myself and also thrive in my own environment.  It taught me that the decisions I made for myself were good for me, and I had a taste of something I wanted to recreate back home in Vancouver.

In the year I met Boy, I started envisioning the adult life I wanted for myself.  It involved a shorter commute to work and having a new space to call home.  That didn't sit well with my mother, who thought I would live at home until I got married one day.  But surprisingly, Giagi was incredibly supportive, and saw that this was what young people did here in Canada.  And it wasn't like I'd be moving to another country.

Unfortunately Giagi never got to see me find and create my home(s)--first Villetta, a rental in a quasi-heritage building on West 6th and Pine, and then Casetta, my own apartment, that I couldn't have purchased without Ma's help.  There are many things I would have loved to share with him in the years since he passed away, but one of the main ones is this place that I have made mine.  I think he would have loved it. 

But I digress.  It wasn't until my life plans verged away from my mom's life plans for me that the friction started, and since then I have a whole new affinity with Gilmore Girls that I never had as a teenager.  Now I recognize that sometimes the most difficult relationships to navigate are our oldest ones.  It is hard to reconcile that a source of love and comfort one moment can just as quickly become a beacon for guilt or tension the next. 

I worked up some courage today, but I wish that it didn't take courage at all.  I hope for a day when things will be easier between us, and when words can be exchanged, heard, and understood in the present without needing to drift through a web of preconceptions and judgements.  It seems to work for some people.