Write a letter to your mom. Tell her something you’ve always wanted to say, but haven’t been able to.
I’m so much like you it scares me. Not because it’s bad but because it’s uncanny. There are the little things. We always seem to know exactly when it is the appropriate time for a cup of tea, when it’s cappuccino time, or when perhaps a sherry should be served. There are the physical things. “You two must be related!” There are the much bigger things – our sense of humor, our love of cooking, our love of music.
After two months of you staying with us, Zoli said, “It’s so clear to me now. You are this strange mesh of both your parents.” And, it’s true. I have so many traits that are from Daddy too.
But, today, I saw you so clearly. Zoli tried to get me to enter a store I generally curl my lip at. I stuck my head in and said, “I can’t be in here. The sizing in the merchandise goes straight for my eyes.”
My husband stared at me with a bemused look, “Ladies and gentlemen, my wife. And, what exactly are you talking about?”
“Sizing in clothes. You know the stuff manufactures put in cheap clothes? Call my mom – she’ll tell you.” I grabbed my phone and dialed. As always, you knew not only what I was talking about but confirmed I certainly could not be in the store. Way too cheap.
My husband shook his head, “You’re both quite mad. You just hide it so well.”
What I’ve come to realize is what Alice and the Mad Hatter realized –
The Mad Hatter:
Have I gone mad?
I’m afraid so. You’re entirely bonkers. But I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are.
I’m so thankful to be like you and even more thankful we are both mad.