Arrived in Las Vegas at 11:30p...four and a half hours from Madre Street in Pasadena to Mojave Road. With holiday traffic, a couple of accidents, construction, the requisite stop in Baker, and rain starting just before Stateline (I will never be able to refer to it as "Primm"), that's not bad time. I've done it in three and change on a clear off-season day.
Unloaded the Camry (Mom has learned not to make disparaging comments about my penchant for overpacking), she and I chatted for awhile, I took a Unisom and slept 'til 10:30, when Mom began to rustle about...the drug was still with me, so I napped again until noon-fifteen. Mom's gone out to run errands with her friends on the transport that takes them about town. I wasn't allowed to accompany them...no insurance to cover a younger mobile woman. So I'm waking up and getting my bearings.
My past lines the walls of Mom's home. Photos of the little family of George, Evelyn and Alexandra...photos of the little family of Bob, Zan and Anna...histories that are comforting and disquieting, familar and alien. My soul's essence is, of course, intact; but I am SO not that precious infant, that sweet little girl, that rebellious teenager, that haunted 20-something with the eyes of a woman who wants so much more. Thank God for the challenges that chipped away at the destructive layers to reveal an elegant truth.
As Stacie read my tarot cards, she saw that I'm a complex woman who's lived a complex life. True enough...and now, the complexities are manageable, functional, even enjoyable. And always entertaining.
Now I embrace the process of life. A Christmas gift to oneself I highly recommend.
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