dinner with mom tonight in a suburban restaurant that wants to have a great ambiance and charges city prices for over-steamed mussels and risotto cakes in sauce from a jar. she used and licked her thumb like a knife while i resisted and resisted and resisted until i finally convinced myself to open to her while she spoke incessantly, and my vocabulary is not good, but she is lacking an awareness as she speaks about her insecurities. her insecurities around being unmemorable and unimportant. she attributes these to her lack of education, to a lack of structure and to her ignorance(s). she’s lately infatuated with the historical accounts of her mother, my grandmother, and she recounts these stories without reflection and i know now that her mother dropped out of high school at 16, as did my mother and….
my own insecurities keep me from moving beyond this point
i desire the bravery that i deny myself.
my mother asked me tonight to confirm her use of ‘affable’ and i didnt know it was a word and she went back and forth, in her insecurity, between erroneous and erogenous because she knew that one of them was “the bad one but not bad but…” it was used in the title of some self-help book that she thinks that i would know if she could only remember his name.