I had to correct mom.

She was talking to Bill about Jason’s upcoming move over coffee. She was outlining what we are (might? I still can’t fully believe) going to do. Mom was making it sound like it would be a short honeymoon. Part of which was that Jason and I would be in the car while movers in a separate truck would take our stuff to Indiana. That we will be able to almost leisurely go through the mountains and stop at a couple of tourist places. We would be able to enjoy the sights together which would be doubly special for Jason. The Floridian has never seen the Smokeys up close and personal. It might be fun and, maybe, a little relaxing.

I had to go in there in my night dress and explain that we’ll U-Haul it. I figure that I’d end up driving the truck for the most part while he drives the car. There won’t be any mystically gazing at mountains or developing some sort of soul connection during the 48ish road trip. Nope.

Not at all. It’ll be too expensive and, even if we did have money to pay someone to move our stuff, that money would be better served going towards more advantageous purchases for the house. Or, maybe, the money that could be saved by U-Haul might be applied towards a long weekend somewhere.

It would just be more logical, right?

I had to go in there and shoot down this picture she was painting. I don’t feel bad about it. I like to be upfront and correct any errors so we’re all on the same wavelength.

Apparently, not everyone can handle this direct form of communication.
Primary example: Jason’s mother.

Jason’s mother suspects, but doesn’t know, that he sold his house, is moving to Indiana, and needs to be out by the end of August.

She complains, yells, and makes him feel guilty. To me, she’s acting like a child and her lack (refusal or Jason’s refusal to be direct). I don’t see his mother as a key player or that her opinion matters. To me, she isn’t, and it certainly doesn’t. But, she is his mother. She has held sway over Jason his entire life, for good or ill.

And I think I’m having a hard time, despite reassurances and legally binding documents, until she knows. His mother doesn’t have to support it. She doesn’t have to like it. She just has to know. That’s not happening.

I can understand her apprehension. She’s old. Her youngest son has all but disowned her. The middle son is supportive but is trying to have a life. The oldest son, Jason, has become her go-to. Sort of.

I’m very biased in this situation and I think their relationship is more commodity-based. Jason is something to be bought and rented instead of treated like an actual person. The relationship is a power-play and any advantage that he may have becomes hers or has the potential that she could benefit. She attempts (or does) manipulate him through half-assed efforts, emotionally charged terms, and a bounty of logical fallacies. Jason, for the most part, has been trained over the years to accept the manipulation even though he’s aware that it is happening.

I feel really bad about writing this. But, to my totally subjective observation of this mother/son relationship over the past twenty years, I’ve got lots of support that I can draw on and consistently proves my personal points.

But, this isn’t my family. His mother will never be considered family. Technically, if the result is the same, this doesn’t have anything to do with me. I don’t need to further muddy the waters. This is just me venting.

However, I know that I will never have a cordial relationship with Jason’s mother even if I wanted to. The trust and respect will never be there.

I’m almost done.
Just one little additional point.

This would have been a great time for Jason to say something along the lines of… “I see my future with you. All of the other reasons pale in comparison when I know I will wake up next to you for the rest of my life.”

This magical and romantic moment hasn’t happened. I don’t expect it to happen. After twenty-plus years with the same man, I don’t know why I feel that something like this needs to be said. It would just be nice.

But, that’s okay.

Today is a little different.
I’m actually going to go to a writer’s group this evening and check it out. That’s why I didn’t go to the gym or bike riding or anything. Actually, I should really read the bits… I want to say submission, but this isn’t class. What would it be called? Chapters from potential colleagues?

Anyway, if I’m going to be staying in Indiana, I might be able to become a part of this group and be a consistent member. I don’t think this group would be worth giving up my Persephone status. But, it might be a start. Maybe I can actually develop a friendly relationship with a non-blood-bound person. Bonus – write a book after thirty-plus years of fantasizing about it.

But, this is reality.
We’ll see how it goes and if I can stand my self-imposed routine being disrupted more than what it already is.