Suddenly, I missed Saguaro Lake.
I was looking out the window in our Boston apartment at the cloudy, wintery snowscape and hating it. I wasn’t hating it consciously, but this Arizona girl can only take so much of grey skies and cold weather. So I missed the sight of the tall, mint-green saguaro cacti in the desert, blooming flowers on their tops. I missed the scrawny palm trees and the crunching pebbles in the driveway. Then I picked up a fresh naval orange from a bowl next to me and took a deep inhale of that wonderful fruit. And suddenly, I missed my mom.
I know not everyone is lucky enough to have a good relationship with her mom. I have a great one. It’s hard for me to be here in Boston without any family — especially my mom.
As a kid, I never thought that when I grew up I would still need her. It seemed like turning into an adult would make parents obsolete, maybe people who would become more like friends than anything else. But despite my husband and my amazing friends and my supportive community, there still is that primal need for my mother. It’s annoying, almost, that part of growing up doesn’t entail growing out of that need. The feeling tends to crop up at the worst of times.
When I’m sick for a week, or my kids are too much to handle, I just want my mommy. When it’s Christmas time, and I don’t know how to make sugar cookies, I want my mommy. And when Boston is all snow emergencies and freezing, I want my mommy.
It’s hard to admit that I feel sad about it, like I’m not as “mature” or “adult” as I should be. I don’t want to feel this way. It would be easier not to.
So, today, I’m finding it hard to deal: What does mommy do when she needs her mommy?
What is your mother like? Is she close by? Do you miss her? Do you need her? Is this even a real thing??