Some people have a conscience. A little voice inside their head that tells them how to do things. The voice in my head has always been my mother's. Even before she died, what she wanted, how she wanted things done held sway over me. When I read the YA novel Ella Enchanted, I understood how hard it was for the main character to resist the compunction to obey. The control that Mom had over me was sometimes frightening.
Now that she is gone, I still struggle with choosing whether to rebel or obey. A little thing, like opening a can of vegetables for dinner, can ignite an inner battle:
"Always wash the lid of a can before you open it!"
"There is nothing on this can. I just bought it."
"You have no idea as to how many people may have touched it! Wash it!"
"No-one's gonna die if I don't wash this can."
"Those are my grandchildren you're feeding! Wash the can!"
"This is stupid. I'm just going to open the can." I pick up the can opener.
"WASH THE CAN!!!"
I wash the can. Because not washing the can is stupid. Arguing about washing the can is stupid. Especially when your opponent isn't there. And this goes on every time I have to open a can. One example among many. Does that sound crazy to you? Yeah, me too. Guess who I'm blaming?
Every Saturday I post under the title "Songs My Mother Sang To Me" (SMMS2M for short.) If you are reading this, and if you are occasionally moved to write about your mother, or being a mother, or that mother-f6@%er that flipped you the bird on the street, and it's a Saturday...please feel free to grab the button in the sidebar and leave a link to your post in the comment section here so that I can read it.