I miss my mom, for a thousand different reasons every day. Sometimes I can see whatever it is coming around the corner, and I can brace myself, and I can dodge it, or steel myself for it, or whatever is required. Sometimes though, there's just no way to know. It just hits you. Something you remember, something that you always meant to say or do, some bit of comfort that you didn't even realize you had until it's gone.
I had a work triumph today. Not a big one, but the advisory panel for our research group met today and I have been working on this research this year, and while I'm not leading any pieces of the project, I've been thinking about them all and trying to contribute where I could. I'm also the person who did a lot of the organizing and coordinating, although I certainly had tons of help. And we've been prepping for this for such a long time, and all these other things went wrong this week, and then it happened. It was done. It went great. And I'm just tired and I fell asleep before dinner and then came home from dinner and slept again and now I'm awake, but I feel terrible, and I just keep thinking how much I miss her. How proud she would have been of me today.
See, the thing is that for all these other people, dressing professionally, walking the walk and doing the meet and greet seem natural for them. I get dressed up and I move through my day and I wonder if everyone who sees me thinks its effortless too, or if they can tell I'm faking it, that it takes a lot of work for me just to make it look natural. And my mom understood that. I'm like her, you know. I don't personally care about my hair, except that having nice hair makes me look more professional. I don't care if I wear jeans all the time, except that professionals don't wear jeans all the time. And I try to follow the conventions, but if it were up to me, I'd wear jeans and a T-shirt every day and feel great about it. We were both (I guess now it's just me) bad at small talk, not incapable, but just hesitant, nervous. We got things done, but we never took an easy breath until it was done, finished, constantly aware of all the ways we could screw it up until it was over.
Everyone else looks at today and thinks, good meeting. My mom would have seen it as a freaking triumph, yet more evidence that her kid had figured out how to navigate this wider world that she didn't understand. It's not so much about the pat on the back, as it is about having someone understand why I need it in the first place.
People look at me and they see this confident person, this person who knows how to get stuff done, but I'm constantly filled by self-doubt, surprised that it all works out, that I'm good enough. My mom was that way too. When she got her job at the cabinet shop, she was so proud. When she couldn't do cabinetry anymore, and she worked in the nursery, she showed me around, telling me about all the plants and what she was doing. She needed someone to be proud of her, and I was. I didn't chide her for needing that because you know, of course she could work at a nursery. I didn't think it was silly that she needed that. I was just proud, proud that she was happy and that she did it and that she felt good about it.
I have people in my life who pat my back, who tell me they're proud, who tell me it's silly to have doubts, who tell me I can do anything. But so often the attitude with praise is that "well, if you're not sure you did good, I'll let you know you did, but of course you did great. You shouldn't need me to tell you that." Why is that so hard to get? Are there people out there who never have doubts, who are always sure that they'll get it right? I miss my mom because she got it. Because she got it without me having to explain it.
**Please note that I wrote this last night in the middle of the night when I was utterly exhausted, but could not sleep due to some bizarrely severe and sudden headache that made my left eye throb. So, it's an emotional extreme, but even without the melodrama of the emotional minute, I still mean all that stuff. However, that is NOT TO SAY that I don't appreciate the people in my life who do say nice things and all that, just that there's no one that can replace her.
I had a work triumph today. Not a big one, but the advisory panel for our research group met today and I have been working on this research this year, and while I'm not leading any pieces of the project, I've been thinking about them all and trying to contribute where I could. I'm also the person who did a lot of the organizing and coordinating, although I certainly had tons of help. And we've been prepping for this for such a long time, and all these other things went wrong this week, and then it happened. It was done. It went great. And I'm just tired and I fell asleep before dinner and then came home from dinner and slept again and now I'm awake, but I feel terrible, and I just keep thinking how much I miss her. How proud she would have been of me today.
See, the thing is that for all these other people, dressing professionally, walking the walk and doing the meet and greet seem natural for them. I get dressed up and I move through my day and I wonder if everyone who sees me thinks its effortless too, or if they can tell I'm faking it, that it takes a lot of work for me just to make it look natural. And my mom understood that. I'm like her, you know. I don't personally care about my hair, except that having nice hair makes me look more professional. I don't care if I wear jeans all the time, except that professionals don't wear jeans all the time. And I try to follow the conventions, but if it were up to me, I'd wear jeans and a T-shirt every day and feel great about it. We were both (I guess now it's just me) bad at small talk, not incapable, but just hesitant, nervous. We got things done, but we never took an easy breath until it was done, finished, constantly aware of all the ways we could screw it up until it was over.
Everyone else looks at today and thinks, good meeting. My mom would have seen it as a freaking triumph, yet more evidence that her kid had figured out how to navigate this wider world that she didn't understand. It's not so much about the pat on the back, as it is about having someone understand why I need it in the first place.
People look at me and they see this confident person, this person who knows how to get stuff done, but I'm constantly filled by self-doubt, surprised that it all works out, that I'm good enough. My mom was that way too. When she got her job at the cabinet shop, she was so proud. When she couldn't do cabinetry anymore, and she worked in the nursery, she showed me around, telling me about all the plants and what she was doing. She needed someone to be proud of her, and I was. I didn't chide her for needing that because you know, of course she could work at a nursery. I didn't think it was silly that she needed that. I was just proud, proud that she was happy and that she did it and that she felt good about it.
I have people in my life who pat my back, who tell me they're proud, who tell me it's silly to have doubts, who tell me I can do anything. But so often the attitude with praise is that "well, if you're not sure you did good, I'll let you know you did, but of course you did great. You shouldn't need me to tell you that." Why is that so hard to get? Are there people out there who never have doubts, who are always sure that they'll get it right? I miss my mom because she got it. Because she got it without me having to explain it.
**Please note that I wrote this last night in the middle of the night when I was utterly exhausted, but could not sleep due to some bizarrely severe and sudden headache that made my left eye throb. So, it's an emotional extreme, but even without the melodrama of the emotional minute, I still mean all that stuff. However, that is NOT TO SAY that I don't appreciate the people in my life who do say nice things and all that, just that there's no one that can replace her.
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