“No. I’m seeing clearly for the first time in years.”
Amanda sighed with impatience.
“Fine. So what do you want? Do you want us to pay you? Is that it?”
Her words hit me like a slap. Pay me. As if that was the missing piece. As if the problem was money and not the absolute lack of respect and love.
“I don’t want your money, Amanda. I want you to see me. I want you to value me. But I realize that’s never going to happen. So I’ve decided to do something different this year.”
“What?”
“I’m going on a trip. I’m leaving tomorrow morning and not coming back until after New Year’s.”
The silence that followed my words was so dense I could feel it. Amanda looked at me as if I had just spoken a foreign language. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she finally found her voice.
“You’re going on a trip. Mom, you can’t be serious.”
“I’m completely serious.”
“But everything’s already planned. The kids are expecting to come here. We already told them they’d be spending Christmas with Grandma.”
“Then you’ll have to change your plans, just like I changed mine.”
Amanda took a step back, as if my words were physically threatening.
“You can’t do this to us. It’s Christmas. It’s family time.”
“It’s family time,” I repeated with a calmness that surprised me. “But I don’t count as family, do I? I only count as the one who solves everyone’s problems.”
“You’re being ridiculous. Of course you’re family.”
“When was the last time you invited me to do something that didn’t involve watching your kids?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. I saw her search her memory, trying to find a single example. She didn’t find one.
“Exactly,” I said. “You can’t remember because it hasn’t happened. I only exist for you when you need me.”
“Mom, you’re misinterpreting everything. We’ve been busy, it’s true, but that doesn’t mean we don’t love you.”
“Love without action is just empty words, Amanda.”
