Making Your Mother Cry

Your mother has to be the sweetest person I ever met. When she came to town that first time, you didn’t really say what you had told her about me. I figured that you would probably have told her at least the highlights — well, I mean the low lights, of course. Everyone, even you, seems to always do that.

I do understand that but wish it wasn’t so. I know that everyone just wants to keep people from saying what they think would be the wrong thing, from asking some innocent questions that might affect me in ways it really doesn’t. That’s a blessing and a curse, of course.

With your mother, it was rather obvious that you had told her the whole story. But then, I really didn’t know how sweet and tenderhearted your mother was. I got my first hint the first time I looked into her blue eyes. They were already filled with tears as she looked deep into mine. 

You introduced us and she couldn’t say a word although she made a couple of tries as her tears began to flow. She just took three quick steps to me, hugged me, and started to cry. Of course, by then I was crying, too. Such an auspicious start.

As I said, the whole story in my background can be a blessing and a curse when I first meet people. You and I talked about this after your mother’s visit. I made you promise not to tell anyone about my past before they met me. It was fine with your mother because of your and my relationship. That put things with your mother and me on a completely different plane. But with others, I didn’t want to start any relationship in an emotional whirlwind created by a preconceived notion of how broken I must be, no matter how true that was. I wanted to start on a level playing field and let them get to know me as the person I want to be and hope to be instead of the person the past forces me into being.

That is one thing I don’t miss.

Here, everyone is a stranger and no one looks at me with tears in their eyes.