Quality Time

Growing up in the Starr household wasn't exactly sunshine and roses. Hence...my issues.

My mother was verbally and emotionally abusive and I spent most of my childhood walking on eggshells wondering what would set her off next. This upbringing set the tone for my subsequent unhealthy and sometimes abusive relationships. After all, it's human nature to gravitate toward the familiar. Years of self analysis and introspection have brought me to a pretty healthy place but admittedly, I'm not without a lot of scars. Baby steps.

When my father was diagnosed with terminal cancer a year ago, my first thought after the obvious, was 'how will I deal with my mother when he's gone'? He always acted as a bit of a buffer and though she's mellowed a bit, a leopard really never changes their spots. I have more patience for my mother than my sister does and I suppose it's because a part of me still longs for that unconditional love while Lisa has resigned herself to the fact that it just isn't going to happen.

Last week, my mother had two doctor's appointments scheduled and since my workday affords me more flexibility, I offered to take her. I surprised myself by how patient I was as she struggled to get in and out of the car and how dutiful I was as I helped her through the hospital to the doctor's office. I could see the stares of admiration for the woman helping her elderly mother get around.

Well, that didn't last long.

After two doctor's appointments, lunch and a trip to Wal-Mart, I was pretty certain that the people watching us now were raising their phones to their ears to call Adult Protective Services on me.

I don't see why.

I mean, an 82 year old women should be able to push a heavy shopping cart with a toaster oven in it, right?

And the cars will stop for her when she's crossing the street.



It's not my responsibility to make them stop.

When I feel like I can't take it anymore, I just take a deep breath and say this little prayer:

God grant me the serenity to accept that my mother won't change.

The courage to confront her when she's being abusive.

And the wisdom to hide the gun.