You asked my mother why she hasn’t been able to contact me to update you on how I’m doing. Even after years of this, it still catches me off guard. Your excuses have changed over the years. You didn’t have my number, you didn’t have time to talk to me yourself, you didn’t know when I was free. You sent me a happy birthday text though, so that must make up for it.
I’ve never understood this. I don’t know that anyone but you can understand why. And it isn’t like I’ve avoided the topic, I’m no stranger to direct confrontation. However you always had a way of skirting around the topic.
So you want an update? I’m fantastic. I have done what none of your children have, I finished high school, I married an amazing guy, and I’ve gone to school in pursuit of a career. I finished my program top of my class and obtained a position days after finishing. I am good. But of course, you don’t want this information from me.
My husband has been so supportive of me. He’s pushed me when I wanted to give up, he learned and studied with me, and now he can’t stop telling me how proud he is of me. He deserves quite a bit of the credit but won’t accept it. He’s amazing.
His mom takes care of us in the way a mother of adult children does. She makes sure we have everything we need no matter how much we fight her on it.
His father is man-child. He disappeared for years, and when he came back, he pretended that he never left. He’s petty and expects gifts on holidays and won’t let any kindness of his to be unnoticed. He doesn’t like to be involved, however he won’t let his presence be forgotten. He kind of reminds me of you.
I’m nothing like you and that fact makes me happier than you’ll ever know.