Moma came bearing curtains!

I had a great visit with my mom last weekend. She got to my office around 3:00, helped me finish up a project, and then we went to my house. Friday night's plans consisted mainly of (1) hang my bedroom curtains. So we did. It is amazing what a difference a little cloth hanging from a rod makes! It is actually dark in my bedroom at night now. No street light "pollution" in the bedroom now! Plus, they're darn pretty curtains. Hand-me-downs are a great thing when you have a mom and sister like I have. I laughingly told Moma that if it weren't for her and C, I'd have no furniture or anything on my walls! They buy the "good stuff" and give it to me when they don't need/want it anymore!

After the plans were completed, we sat on the couch for a sum total of 15 minutes and Moma said, "let's go do something." Ummm, okay. So, we went and wandered around Barnes & Noble and had deep, important conversations about literature with a complete stranger. We both adopted the time-tested way to look smarter than you are -- smile, nod knowingly and let him do all the talking. (All this because we were in the classic literature part and I said I didn't like Dante's Inferno or Paradiso and he overheard.)

Saturday morning, we lazed around the house, then went shoe shopping for a bit, looked at a McMansion on the way home and then it was time for her to head off to A, D & the Kids.

All-in-all, a great, allbeit short, visit.

During our chatting, something kind of struck me. If people had told me at 15 (actually age 13-20) that I would like my mother, much less want to spend time with her, I'd have thought they were insane.... and Moma felt the same way. It is funny what a little time, maturity (on my part, obviously), and medication will do. I wonder what my life would have been like, what my teen years would have been like, if I had been diagnosed and treated for my depression.

I realize that 20 years ago clinical depression, mental illness in general, had a certain stigma attatched that has, thankfully, begun to go away. But I look at my life now, with medication, and realize how much better I feel and sometimes wish we'd known then what we know now.