I thought my mom would be my nightmare

Given that men's life expectancies are shorter, I always thought my dad was likely to die first. And

I'm not proud to admit it, but I dreaded the time that would come after. I imagined my mom becoming my worst nightmare: an unreasonable, self-pitying, burden that I would feel inescapably responsible for.

Mom and Dad on his 80th birthday

Mostly, this was because there were so many things about my mom that drove me crazy, like the way she never asked me any questions when we talked on the phone. Whenever I called, it would be my dad who would answer, and he and I would often chat about life for quite some time. I'd ask for his advice about a home repair, or he'd tell me about what was going on at the foodbank where he chaired the board, and after that if there was any specific business to take care of, like the arrival time of my train for an upcoming visit, it would be my dad I'd make the arrangements with. 

When mom got on the phone, and she and I would talk for a while too, but with her it always felt like she was reciting a list of things they'd done recently, like plays they'd seen, or concerts they'd been to. It never felt like a conversation. 

My dad passed away on July 18, and although it's been very, very sad there is one small miracle that's come out of it: how much I enjoy my mom now. I go to visit her in Ottawa for a week every month, and stay with her at the house to make sure she's okay. I look forward to those visits. I enjoy her company when I'm there.  And when I come back home to Toronto I miss her.

It's as if my dad came between us in ways I wasn't aware of. There were things about my mom that I'm quite sure drove my dad crazy too, her shyness, her messiness, her anxiety about jaywalking. He rarely complained, but I sensed his impatience. And I think out of loyalty to him I felt contempt for those things in her too. Now that he's gone, I feel as if I've been released. I can forgive her flaws. It all feels much less fraught and complicated.

It's also that my mom seems changed. Now when we talk on the phone I feel like she's more interested in my life. She asks more questions. Part of it is we have business to take care of now, we need to make decisions together, and so the give and take of sharing opinions makes it feel like a conversation. But I wonder if there's more to it than that.

Over the years I've come to realize that being in relationship changes people. I have one old friend

Mom at their 50th Anniversary Party

(lets call him G) who is very nice, and we normally get along great, but for one year when G was dating a particular man, he started taking advantage of me in ways he never had before. Eventually they broke up, and I was relieved when G reverted back to his normal self. Now G is with a different man and he's changed again, but this time for the better: he's calmer, happier, more self-aware.

Next week on November 25 it will be the first wedding anniversary for my mom since my dad's death. They would have been married 53 years. 

They were together my whole life, so ever since I was born the only mother I've known is the person she was when she was with my dad. Is she changing because she's no longer with him now?

This new mom isn't "unreasonable" and "self-pitying" like I'd feared. She's actually sweet and funny, and she loves being taken care of. She's like a cat, you can almost see her purr when Martha from across the street offers to driver her to her doctors appointments. Or when Wayne the neighbour mows her lawn. She's so appreciative it makes it a pleasure to take care of her.

I find myself feeling guilty sometimes about all the nice things the neighbours are doing. Never mind the impracticalities, even though I live 500km away I still feel like it's my duty as a daughter to take care of my mom. I feel like I owe the kindly neighbours a debt.

When I mentioned this to G he pointed out my mother is still a person. It's actually her that owes the debt not me. Tears welled up in my eyes. I knew he was right and I wished I could believe him, really believe him, deep down inside. I realized that the "inescapable burden" part of the nightmare scenario was also something I'd constructed in my own mind.

As this new relationship with my mom unfolds, I suppose it will change me too. I hope for the better.