understanding

i didn't mean to sound like i was judging jackson browne in my last post. i was more struck by just remembering how i would belt those songs out that my mom loved. or that i thought she loved...she sure played them a lot.

i can remember when my mom was dating and she'd cry when she'd fight with a boyfriend. she'd get herself a wet washcloth to put on her swollen eyes. and whenever she'd set it down, i'd pick it up and put it on my swollen eyes. not that i ever really knew why we were crying. but if she was crying...that was reason enough, in my young mind, for me to cry. she used to get kind of pissy that i'd take her rag, though... but that was just my mom. she never quite appreciated the absolute loyalty and devotion she had in me...like a labrador, but not so much chewing.

and then i realized she was all caught up in men...almost addicted...even if they were mean, horrible, stupid men. which none of them really were. but when one's throwing your mom around, you tell yourself they are. i actually learned a lot from some of the men she married. good stuff...important stuff about life, whatnot. i don't know why, but i've always been that way. able to see the good in people. not that i don't feel angry or hurt or pissed or petty...because i do. i really, really, really do. but i ultimately come to this place of understanding. sometimes i quite resent it. weird, huh? sometimes i don't want to be understanding. i feel the understanding opening this door on a person...and something in me tries really hard to keep it shut, slam it back closed...well, sometimes.
peace