goodbye letters

I've written the first of the goodbye letters--the one that I'll send to my mother.

It's short, terse and matter-of-fact.  I've assured her that my "departure" was not her fault.  I've told her that my suffering is over, and I've asked her to be happy for me.

As my suffering ends, hers begins.  But, maybe a bit of hers ends, too.  I'm certain that she's grown tired of hearing her almost fifty-year-old son whine about life.  To be sure, the past five years have been a real downer--crippling gout attacks, buying a van I couldn't afford, bankruptcy, eviction, losing my precious kitty cats, business failure and eviction (again) after a tree fell on my place.  More than once, my mother has seen my number on her caller ID and thought "It's my son with his crisis-du-jour."  I wanted to call and tell her that I was buying a house, that I'd gotten engaged, that she'd be a grandma or that I'd made "partner" (doing some job where one eventually makes "partner".)  Instead, she got  to hear me bitch about the fallout from my stupid life choices.  Who wants to hear that crap, year after year?

She always listens.  She always tries to help.  Bless her.

This time, I just can't be helped.  I hope she understands.