My mom and I have been best friends since I was about 16.
The funny thing is we are not that much alike. I mean, I do have a lot of her wonderful qualities but if I was going to pick a parent I was most like, it would have to be my father. (They’re divorced…that story for later.)
I love my dad. Faults, quirkiness and ability to innocently cut with words and all, I accept him for who he is and still love him. When I told him that he said, “Well you’re a better man than I am.”
So back to the point. I theorize the reason we get along is that I’m half her and half my dad and for some reason that mix compliments her. I mean, my parents stayed married for 20+ years so they had to have been compatible on some level. And I think my dad-half is the compatible part. Ironically…the man I married is soooooo the other half of my dad and my mom that it’s spooky.
The best part of getting along so well is how comfortable around each other we are. I’ll be frank with her and tell it like it is and give her gentle shoves (I said gentle!) when she’s balking about something.
For those of you who know her (and I’ll sing her praises more in length later) she’s an incredible person with a wonderful story I hope to at least capture here in blogs if not actually on paper. But a Heather blog is going to be irreverent, controversial, deep, funny or at least a little bit shocking. And to that end I’ll scoop. Heh heh heh.
My mother’s disgestive tract sucks. She is perfect in so many ways but her body just brings new meaning to the phrase anal-retentive. Spiritualists would say it is her inner soul clinging to the unnecessary. Her doctors say it’s just her. But the most ironic thing is EVERY…TIME…I get her on the phone within a minute she’s saying, “Can I call you back I have to go to the bathroom.”
She swears it’s my voice…apparently something in my dulcet tones just makes her have to pee. But it’s become a running joke between us. I can just envision her when she’s eighty calling me on the phone and saying, “Heather, talk to me. I haven’t sat on the can all day.”
Yup, that’s me…the walking diuretic. Makes me afraid to do stand up. What if I have this effect on the audience! How will clubs hire me if as soon as I start my routine hundreds people leave the room!