onlythejodi

How is it so easy to write about my mother, and so hard to write about my dad?

The fact that I shrink from writing about him tells me I’m not quite ready to sleep in Thursday mornings and drop Therapy Guy just yet.

With Big Edie, it’s all very clear. She’s my crazymaker. That’ll never change. I love her so much that if I loved her one tiny bit more my heart would explode, there’d be bits & chunks of my heart splattered all over the wall.

With Fred, the feelings are not quite as easily identified.

I discovered Fred natural spring water last summer. I have two empty bottles in my kitchen cabinet  I cannot bring myself to throw out. The man has been dead for almost 9 years.   Continue reading →

Mother’s Day. Growing up we never made a big deal about those made-up Hallmark holidays. But, I’m at an age where I don’t take having my mom around for granted, so I pointed the car towards home. Not in the literal sense because Big Edie sold Home with a capital H right after Fred died, before the body was cold, but I get to go home in the sense of my Heart. Home to my moms. And her big Italian boo.

She drives me crazy, my mother does. You know what they say, no one can push your buttons like the folks who installed them – and Big Edie & I are preternaturally close (hence, the endearment, Big Edie). She doesn’t see it like that, as co-dependence or enmeshment or any of those other psychobabble terms. “We just have a really good relationship“, she says.

She knows when I’m hurt. Physically or psychologically, without seeing or talking to me, she has that innate Jewish mother’s remote viewing where they know if you’re hurt even before you do. She gets “twitchy”. She’s not always right, but I like that her radar is tuned to my well-being, station KJSD.    Continue reading →