My mother called two nights ago, when I was out, and spoke to Heather. Her much-loved poodle has a cancerous tumour, so she wanted to let me know that the dog had an operation and everything is fine. She told Heather the news, and then told Heather not to tell me. She said she'd call back the next day and tell me herself. Heather was confused by this. 'Does she expect me to keep secrets from you?' she asked. I explained that, no, she doesn't, but Mum likes to feel that she controls information flows between the entire family. She kind of sees it as her role.
In the same conversation, she asked Heather, not for the first time, if her parents 'knew about her' (ie, her sexuality). Heather said, once again, that her parents are fine with her sexuality. Mum said she was a bit worried about our trip to America, because she was worried that Heather's parents 'might be mean' to me, because I am Heather's girlfriend. Heather reassured her that all will be fine, and that her parents have met her girlfriends before. But Heather couldn't help but feel that Mum was projecting some of her own attitudes, or her and Dad's attitudes, onto Heather's family. Heather felt a little bit defensive.
So I called my mother last night. I told her that, firstly, Heather would always tell me stuff because we don't keep things from each other, and secondly, what was all this stuff about Heather's parents?
'Oh, I was just worried,' Mum said.
'But you've asked Heather about that three times now, Mum. These are Heather's parents, of course they're going to be nice to me.'
'Well, that's what I thought,' she said.
'So please don't ask Heather about it anymore,' I asked.
'Okay. You know what? I've been thinking about it.'
I had no idea what she was talking about here, but I didn't interrupt. I figured she was still talking about Heather's parents. But that would be logical.
'I've been thinking about it, and I've decided something. I wasn't sure at first, so I had to think about it. But I've decided I'm just going to treat you the same. Take you as you come, sort of thing.'
'Oh, you've worked that out have you,' I said.
'Yes.'
'So you've realised that I'm the same as I always was.'
'Yes.'
'You know, Ma,' I said, 'that there are groups for parents that you could talk to, if you wanted ...'
'No, I don't need to,' she said. 'Because I've worked it all out now.'
'Oh that's good. I'm pleased to hear it.'
'But your father still doesn't like the idea.'
And so, it goes on. In baby steps. But in steps nonetheless.
