"i luv u"

My mom has, by far, the worst text grammar of anyone I converse with. However, this is usually the entirety of any message she'll send. Last night, a little after midnight, I called in need of someone to talk to. I was so relieved to the point of shaking when she suggested driving over and talking in the car. Unfortunately, she had taken her medication, rendering her unable to drive or fulfill her suggestion. It hurt some, especially knowing that through circumstance, my mom could not be there for me. Growing up in a divorced home, daily life is easy. It just took some getting used to with the schedule and there's two Christmases. However, long term, I do not want any child of mine to grow up without a mom, for legal or biological reasons. Once I get into the full swing of adulthood, I have to get "evaluated," to be sure I did not inherit the same biological faults of my mom, even though I'm grateful for the Berbee boobs. We talked about it, the distance between us and what kind of adult I will be, like her or not. She spoke of times she wouldn't let Jack or I see her cry. I thought of Disney World, the first time I did see her cry. When I could get through my own tears and sputtered chokings, I spewed my fears and frustrations, my dissatisfaction and self-doubt. I explained and labeled my feelings as best I could, feeling entirely childish for this cumulative frothing of emotion. The phone call gave me more things to think about, rather than ease my anxieties. This tired and torrential morning, Mr. L. so effortlessly heard my few, nonchalant words, and assured me with more words than the cliches my mom offers. Still, the problems exist and will return again.