If she’d only know.

Either it’s me or her. Sometimes I can’t believe how my mom gets into little details of problems and freaks out about them. It’s an ongoing battle, she just seems to be unable to step over those little things and try to build something betweens us. If we’d be constructing a house, we’d never get farther than the basement, cause she would discover millions of things that wouldn’t be right in her opinion. It’s not I dislike her, in fact I think she’s one of the most loveable people on this planet. But she is concerned with everyone and everything. Sometimes I think she keeps herself so busy, so she doesn’t have to think about her job (she’s a teacher), her problems with my grandmother and me. She complains I am never at home, but is that bad? I love my new, free life. I do loads of stuff, college, hockey, entrée. She complains we’re never “talking”, but what is to talk? To discuss endless bits and pieces of everyday’s life or to talk about us, her life, my life, the future? She complains she wants to “spend time”, but I know in her dictation “spending time” means once again never-ending chains of dicussions about things that have no meaning in my life.

Nevertheless, I believe.

PS: Shaun Joseph from the States has joined mindwork.net, a warm welcome from me :) Another piece in the puzzle of how to make the world a better place. When will you join?