Notes From Management

On "Coffee and Cigarettes" - 17-12-2019

Based on an actual argument I had with my mother a few months before she passed away. Unlike in the shitty short story, neither of us ever actually apologised.

I don't remember what the fight was about at the time. I probably spoke out of turn again. Allowed more sarcasm into my tone than is polite in a conversation with one's mother. Rolled my eyes at something. Offered an opinion on a matter that either contradicted hers, or was none of my business to begin with. Fuck, the potential reasons are endless. You see, I grew up in an "old school" family with "old school" values and ways of raising children. I also grew up with a sickly mother and a host of issues to deal with, both hers and my own. Tensions were always running high in our house for no other reason than everyone had a lot of repressed anger, sky high anxiety, and at least one familial feud going on that the others didn't approve of. It didn't help that our tempers were naturally quick and volatile either. Hell, you could piss the next person off just by breathing a certain way.

So, I don't remember what I did or said to set her off, or if she did or said something to light my millimeter long fuse, because it could have been anything. What I do remember is the last words we exchanged before the Two Week Silence of 2013, translated from Afrikaans for easier reading.

Me: "[something especially insensitive that I'm redacting] and I hate you too!"

Ma: "If I knew what kind of hellspawn you'd turn out to be, I would have let the doctors abort you."

Quick background and context: I was a difficult and extremely high risk pregnancy and every one of her doctors suggested she terminate the pregnancy. I overheard her discussing it with my older sisters once and asked them about it. Then I asked her why she didn't listen to the doctors (I would continue asking for the rest of her life). She'd say it was because she'd already loved me too much to get rid of me. That is why this particular stab cut so deep. I blurted out the same shit my siblings did at some point in their adolescent years. Why was I the only one thrown with this one?

The two week silence ended when my mother ran out of cigarettes and desperately needed someone to get her a pack. My eldest sister was in a mood and the other one was too busy to pop in and catch that errand. She couldn't go herself for a reason I don't remember. It had been one of those days I stayed at the library for so long that the teacher on duty had to come put me out and collect the key. I was halfway home when she called and asked how much money I had on me and if it was enough to buy her a pack on my way home, she'd pay me back (the most painful lie every parent tells). As luck would have it, I'd walked to school and back, and skipped lunch that day. I did indeed have enough to buy her a pack on my way home.

that was the first time we'd spoken in two weeks. Neither of us took the opportunity to apologise. We just picked up where we left off, acting like the last two weeks had never happened.

But! being a habitual over-thinker and having a penchant for self-torture, I've relived the end of that fight fairly frequently when I go through my Top 40 Shitty Daughter Moments during a bout of insomnia. And I've felt increasingly guilty every time. Considering that a few months after, she passed away, the guilt has just built up. I wrote Coffee and Cigarettes in an attempt to write the ending I wish had been true. How I wish things had gone.

So, about seven (?) years later, I'm sorry, Ma. I don't hate you. That was a really shitty thing for me to say and I shouldn't have done it no matter how angry I was.

Happy very belated birthday.