How close am I to my Mom? Not very. We used to be pretty close. We always got along well. She often said I was the only one of her kids who never gave her any problems. When I was in my early 20's I lived with her for a few months while trying to get myself established (the rest of my siblings were with my father). We spent many an evening together sitting and talking. She told me she always enjoyed that time.
My mom knew there was something about me that made me different. While I was living with her she showed me an old playbill from The Baton Club. She said my dad took her there one time. I had never heard of it but when I saw these gorgeous "female impersonators" I was awestruck. I never gave the playbill back to her. I treasured it.
While I was there, my mom "had the talk" with me. I didn't know much about it, just that I liked to dress in girl's clothes. I never admitted to anyone I had been wishing I was a girl for as long as I could remember. My mom suggested therapy. She knew someone I could see for $15 per session. That was in 1972 but it was doable.
I went to the first session and started off with "I like to dress in girl's clothes." Within a few weeks the sessions were totally about my father, who, at the time, I hated. So did my mom. The therapy always made me feel better so I went for a couple of months until I no longer had anything to talk about. I had moved out and left my mom with my sister, who had moved in shortly after me.
A few years later my mom joined a born again church called, "The Church." They told their members that anyone outside the church could not be trusted and that they all needed to bring their family and friends in. My mom was a recovering alcoholic and needed support. She got sucked in, with the encouragement of my sister, and little by little withdrew from any of her children who were not church members. "You're not saved," she would often say. One day she called me and said, "I will not be able to call you anymore. It's a toll call and I can't afford it." She lived 20 miles away. Our conversations cost her about two dollars. I later found out the church demanded at least 10% of your income. My mom gave them more.
She sort of turned into a zombie over the years. All the sparkle in her eyes was gone as was her zest for life. Me and a few of my siblings did our best to try to open her eyes and get her out of there but the church had her and my sister and her husband had become church elders and were in her ear constantly.
A couple of years ago we took her out for a Mother's Day lunch. She sat next to me. She leaned over to me and quietly said in my ear, "I accept you." That was nice and I thought it might lead to us getting closer again. But she went back to her church.
My mom just turned 84. We hardly ever talk. There's just nothing to say.
