In the last few years, I have started to realize that my mother imagines that my relationship with her mirrors mine with J. This a bit far from reality given the different people and circumstances in the mix. J is fiercely independent - always has been. I was too in my own way but unlike her, I did not think it was necessary to let go of the maternal tether to become free. For the longest time therefore, I was at odds with myself - straining for freedom and straining at the tether, unsure which way to push harder. When my mother sees the J and I as a relative outsider, she wishes there is continuity - the bond between mother and daughter being a story that replays in predictable ways, repeatable ways. There is a sense of validation in that.
There are some anchoring stories from my childhood she relies on to draw parallels where none exist. Even ten years ago, my response would have been to stop her and set the record straight, use that conversation to call attention to things she did wrong and such other unwise actions where no response was needed. A couple of days, she brought up the same incident - us walking past the shop window of a saree store Bangalore when I was in kindergarten and what I has said about one of the mannequins. This specific story has been recounted to me so many times that I feel like I can recall that scene in full-color detail. The truth is I remember nothing of it except the word picture triggered by my mother's repeated telling of it.
Why is this such a seminal event from my childhood, why this memory over any others I am not entirely sure. But it means a lot to her. I want to have empathy for that though I do not have any similar experience with J. My time with J in the years before college, tended to be lot more dynamic - we had places to go and things to get done. A lot of times, I would be unduly stressed because I could not keep up with all the demands on my time and the pace at which she was going.
J had instituted a chai-time around 4 pm on weekends and holidays when we were both at home. That will remain a shining memory always because it speaks to J's spirit - the ability to make something special out of the mundane, putting her stamp on it. I still have chai on the days that I do around that time - she made it a durable habit, a place I want to cherish. I wish my mother and I had something similar together and the highlight reel of my time in her home would not end with me at age five.
Comments