Like mother, like daughter

I traveled north for the weekend to spend some time with my mom. My dad's in Florida loading up the grandfolks for the last great migration north. Mom's lonely. I was happy to oblige.

We had a nice weekend. A really nice weekend. I love how my mom is nearly as giddy about my changes as I am. She indulges my new whims. She makes me try on clothes that I think are too small for me--because she knows they aren't. She gets excited about the little changes that other people don't always see.

For a long time while I was growing up, I felt like my mom was the enemy. After all, she nagged me my whole life about my weight. She took me TOPS when I was 7. She let my brothers eat things she wouldn't give me. As an adult, I realize that she simply was doing her best to keep me from having the same weight issues she had as a child, teen, young adult, woman.

Now, for the first time in my entire adult life, I weigh less than my mom. I wonder what that's like for her. I know she's thrilled for me and wouldn't want anything for me but the success I've had. But I think about how it makes her feel about herself. I know it's not my responsibility for what she feels. It's just that whole mother/daughter thing.

Anyway. It was a great weekend. We went to a baby shower this afternoon for my second cousin. One of my aunts looked directly at me, made eye contact and didn't recognize me. My other aunt, who knew I had surgery and had lost weight, said I look like my mom now. That's not such a bad thing.