Mothering Another Blue-eyed Boy

Hi, happy mothers day!  If you have a minute to give me some advice it would really help.

The text came in as I was in the forest at the base of the mountain.  We'd planned to hike around the lake at a higher elevation, but the area was still covered by snow, and we didn't have cold weather gear.  It was plenty warm at Timberline, but tromping through snowdrifts can get you pretty chilled pretty quickly.  So we followed the golden-eyed waiter's advice and turned off at the BLM recreation area for a new adventure.

I so love public lands.  They are wonderful places.  This one was no exception.  The air was warm, and all the trees and bushes appeared green and lush in the way that they do when we've had plenty of rain to give them strength to face the drier months.  I sniffed, smelling the water nearby.  Rivers have a scent, you know.  Cold rushing water melting higher up, traveling past different levels of the forest. 

A group of swimmers passed me on the trail coming from the opposite direction.  Girls in bikinis, boys in board shorts.  Bearded, pierced, tattooed, smiling, friendly.  I smiled at them and asked how the water was.  A young woman opened her mouth, trying to answer, but unsure what to say.  Two of the boys shouted "cold!"  A bearded fellow in his mid twenties thoughtfully blew a small cloud of smoke away from me before answering more precisely.  I really appreciated his gesture because, as you know, my lungs can't tolerate smoke.  I'm terrified of getting pneumonia again.  God only knows what mischief I'd get into then.   The smoker told me "32.1 degrees"  and I laughed, thinking of my friend Tom, who is very much a detailed numbers person.  The swimmer's breath reminded me of the aroma I had sometimes smelled in my old university dormitory if residents were not careful to put a towel at the base of their doors and keep the window open.  That reminded me of Tom, too.  I made a mental note to ask him more about his exploits at university, to get more details of his checkered past.  There is so much I don't know about him, even though he has shared a great deal.  Some of his references are rather vague, and I do not like to pry.  But if one is considering having an affair with a man, one should know more about him, I think.  Even if the affair is going to be limited to a two day marathon of lovemaking. 

My family had abandoned me.  I'd had to use the restroom when we arrived at the trailhead, and rather than wait for me, they'd gone on down the trail.  So I was alone, enjoying the relative solitude.  It's not that I don't love my people; I just sometimes like to hear my own thoughts rather than theirs.  But then the text came in, as I mentioned, and so I phoned the young man who'd sent it. 

Handsome Actor.

He really is the loveliest young man.  A former male model who portrayed Romeo in the most breathtakingly naturalistic fashion I've seen in my life.  A hard working guy who truly loves Shakespeare and many other playwrights.  A tortured soul who acutely feels the gaps in his knowledge because of his home-school education and lack of university degree.  A sweetheart who can be grumpy as hell.  "I'm like a bipolar bear," he told me once.  "I freely admit I'm a little crazy."

"Love, we are ALL a little crazy," I told him with a merry laugh.  "Yes," he responded, encouraged by my remark.  "Those who aren't crazy are drones."

He wanted some advice about how to handle his girlfriend, who has been driving him crazier than usual.  As I saw it, Handsome Actor needed a mother's advice.

I have a son of my own.  He's had a few challenges dealing with young ladies over the past two or three years.  They can be cruel *******, some of these girls.  Leading boys on only to cut them off at the knees.   Toying with their emotions.  Acting like they are smarter than young men, better than them.  Hogwash, I say.  Arrogance is an ugly thing.

But I am not one of those women who hate all young women, taking young men's sides against them on all things.  I try to keep an open mind.  As it happens, I very much like Handsome Actor's girlfriend.  She is a fine person, bright and loving.  But she is not perfect.  None of us are.  I listened at length to Handsome Actor's concerns and validated those I thought were valid.  And I urged him to speak openly to her so they could resolve the things that were hurting him.  "Good luck, love," I said.  "Let me know how it goes."

That's the thing.  You've got to tell someone if you've been hurt.  Mothers can soothe you, but they cannot provide all the love you need. 

I walked along the bank of the mossy boulder-strewn river, thinking of the words penned by my favourite playwright about 420 years ago. 

Ay me! for aught that I could ever read,
Could ever hear by tale or history,
The course of true love never did run smooth...
  ~ Midsummer Night's Dream,
Act 1, scene 1, 132-134
milkynips milkynips
46-50, F
May 14, 2012