I write about my life and life itself seen through my eyes for who can write through the experiences of others if not their own?

Monday, March 22, 2010


Left Behind

Getting old and being left behind must be hard. It’s the natural progression of life - birds leave the nest and dogs don’t remember their parents – I guess when it comes to that, we are a little better.

I am beginning to experience a taste of that, no – that the getting old part ;) but more the having a different somewhat secondary role in my kids lives.

We still share a lot, the three of us. My son still downloads a movie on his laptop and cons me into watching it with him when he comes home from college. I love to spend that time with him even if movies are not my priority. My daughter and I watch Reality shows – for someone who doesn’t watch TV, a reality show is more a punishment but same deal, I get in return to be part of her world. Yet, they don’t jump at the idea of going places with me anymore not even vacations. Dinner out or shopping does not interest them anymore although my son still drops everything if I mention Sushi in NYC.
I can’t blame them. When it’s a toss between spending time with Mom or spending time with a friend, I don’t win.

I do the same with my mother and I spend less time with her than my kids do with me. Between my job, projects and time with my daughter whatever spare time I have, well...she is not my first choice, sad but honest truth. Although I see her weekly, I tend to spend my free time with a friend having a drink or dinner.

My friend, with a hectic schedule as mine, spends time with her mother frequently visiting, enjoying a cocktail or dinner at a restaurant. I admire that, and when I look at them together they seem friends, good friends. I don’t seem to find the time other than the weekly slot I give her to imitate my friend or devote the effort to spending quality time with my mother.

However, the other night I asked her to join me for dinner once I was done with one of my projects and by the time I finished it was so late I thought she was going to decline. But she didn’t. She got in the car with a big smile and her nice blouse and sweater on. We drove, talked and had dinner. She enjoyed a cocktail and we shared a cake (my choice of course). It wasn’t difficult, it wasn’t expensive and it was worth it.

I drove home wondering why I don’t do it more often. I don’t know, maybe for the same reasons that my kids don’t spend more time with me, because it is more fun to be with friends.

But friends will always be around and new ones will come, mothers don’t. So the choice of where I spend my time should lean more towards her…but it doesn’t. Well, at least unlike my puppies, I do remember her…