Fragment #71 - We can't have it all

Things can’t always be the way we dreamt them. They can’t always be the way society, people, the Others, promised us they would be. My family definitely doesn’t suit that plan I could have had in my head…
My mother just left my house warming party. It’s 9 p.m. I guess this was sweet of her to leave early: I felt like I had to invite her but I still would enjoy some time alone with my friends and Sarah. I had to invite her so she has a look at the life I built for myself. I hope she is proud of me, as much as she can. I am not sure this is very healthy, having to prove to your family you’re worth it. She is leaving in a few days: she was only in for a job. She is back to being a translator, as she used to be before she found herself pregnant with me. I always felt responsible that she had to settle down and become a teacher - which she always hated - to raise me and Sarah. We haven’t really been a happy family. Though I guess that, at least for a moment, I had this fantasy about the three of us living happily ever after in Glasgow … And of course it’s not happening. Et c’est mieux ainsi.

Some images of the last few days cross my mind. We went to this place I love in Shawlands, Tchai-ovna, to drink tea and eat some cake. I enjoy the comfy and exotic atmosphere, the wooden tables, the colourful hangings which make me feel like, for a hour or two, I have been sent to India, drinking some tea with milk, honey and spices, a mixture that smells like a magic potion. My mother, classy, slender, wearing black trousers and a nice cream jacket - with suits really well her perfect white skin and shoulder length straight blond hair - was a bit out of place, but we enjoyed this mother and daughter moment. As usual, she looked untouchable … But it was okay. Without much surprise, things have been a bit tougher between Sarah and her. I can forgive my mother for the argument we had about how weak she thought I was, but Sarah can’t stand the recurrent reproaches about her leaving Tours, her studies and my mother’s house. They haven’t seen each other much, but I hope the quick lunch we had together on last Saturday helped. I guess it can be a first step towards a status quo … I frown remembering the panicked look she had when she first saw this necklace Dad gave me for my birthday, like she recognized it, which is impossible for some gift someone else bought in Africa. She said I can’t wear it, that she wanted to bring it to an antique dealer’s shop in Paris. I refused. She made me promise not to wear it anymore. And she took a picture. She is really weird…
She will be gone in a few days, after some catch up, shopping and meals. This is not the happily ever after I expected but I guess I can deal with it now. After all, c’est mieux ainsi - it’s better this way. Still looking at the handle of the flat's door, I suddenly feel relieved. Things are good now between me and my mother. I listen to the song playing at this very moment, Chasing Cars… I like it, as it is some of the songs I used to listen in my first years in Glasgow. It remembers me of the thrill of the novelty, the butterflies in my stomach. I still have those butterflies, and now I am settled in my very own place, my very own furniture and things. My friends and boyfriend are waiting for me in the living room. I am lucky enough to have them all, a flat to live in, a job I reasonably like, in the place I like the most in the world. Maybe we can’t have it all, and that is for the best when you already got a lot.