Well, Then.

This weekend was my niece's christening, at which I was worried the mom would make a big fat ugly scene. As it turned out, she had plenty of attention from others, which was great for me. I really only spoke to her once for about five minutes, but it was during a time when we were surrounded by others. At that time, she blurted out the laundry list of things she's going through right now, like she knew I had her on a time limit and she had to get everything in. That was about the time I had to go.

There is a big disconnect between the way I thought she would act and the way she actually did. I'm pleasantly, yet uncomfortably, baffled. She didn't pull any croc tears or guilt trips, although that could be explained away by her not wanting the people who were paying attention to her to see it. It could also be explained that she was receiving her required attention from another source and the fact that it wasn't me was a moot point. She didn't try to corner me AT ALL, which was fantastic, but it makes me wonder what the fuck she's up to. Is this a game? Maybe some of her N-traits have left. (Yeah, bullshit.)

I am relieved that baby's christening did not become "All About Granny." It strikes me that during the brief time she had to speak with me, she didn't ask about my eldest son, who did not come with us. She talked non-stop about herself. This was her abridged version of "All About Granny."

The thing is, after all the tears and guilt she's thrown at me in the past, she seemed not-at-all upset about my low-contact. Which is great - I think? I don't want to hurt her. I guess that my not meaning that much to her overall happiness, though, is a dichotomy from how she has presented in recent history.  She found other sources. She's fine.

I'm really not, but I wouldn't be, regardless.

Yesterday, I picked up a book I read some years ago, and I decided to read it again. It's called "The Secret Life of the Lonely Doll" by Jean Nathan. It's a true story about Dare Wright, an incredibly talented woman who created a whole line of children's books a few decades ago. Her mother was a narcissist who stole any chance of a normal life this woman had. It's a sad, fascinating story. When I read this book initially, I didn't recognize her mother as a narcissist. Knowing what I know now, it's more sad, but it's an interesting story. For those of us who escaped, it's something of a "what could have happened" kick-in-the-jaw.