Once a Momma's boy....

Growing up being called a Momma's boy was derogatory, an insult. I am beyond close to my mom, she and I talk about everything. Maybe it's cause I'm gay, maybe it's cause I'm her first born or because I'm the only male child she had. Who knows. She is one of the closest friends I have, I call her first when something good happens and when I'm sad or upset. She always answers or calls me back if she missss my call.

When I first came out, the one thing I was most worried about was loosing her and getting kicked out. She had a hard time with it and during one of our infamous chats this week, she explained what it felt like for her during my coming out. As she stated, "my dreams for you died, the grandchildren I imagined you having, the wedding I wanted for you... It was all gone. I was terrified of what could happen to you."  She has been through it all with me and continues to support, encourage and worry for me. Since moving to Houston, she has called me everyday and I know she worries about me . Oddly, her worrying about me is comforting. I don't want to see or hear her in pain or even cause her pain, but I'm grateful to have someone in my life who loves me so unconditionally.

As the years have passed, we have transitioned from parent/child to friends. She has told me I'm the embodiment of her hopes and in every way my accomplishments are hers. She was still a kid when she had me, we grew up together and learned along the way. I'm the joker in the family, the clown, the one who makes jokes and in many ways I became that way to help her. She has had a hard life, sometimes I wonder how she has had the strength to go on. This is the woman who always made me feel special and put my needs ahead of hers. She is also the woman who ran over my alcoholic, cheating lying piece of crap father with her car after he hit her one night. Before their very bitter divorce, he hit her again and found his drunk ass tangled in a barbed wire fence. I learned a lesson early on, don't fuck with my momma, cause she will go cra cra in a split second.

The woman I see now is older, calmer and generally more loving. Maybe it's because time has soothed the savage beast or maybe she is just happy being a grandmother. Last week, I called her and the second I heard her voice I broke into tears, after a few minutes of listening to me sob, she simply said, "baby what's wrong?" In that instant her voice soothed me, it comforted me to know that at my age she was there, if not physically, emotionally and I could feel her hugging me over the phone. She is my hero, confident, friend and spiritual advisor.

I have friends that don't have and can't imagine the relationship I have with momma. I know that someday she will be gone, it makes me tear up just at the thought of this beautiful, tortured soul not being in my life. The comfort is that I cherish her and she has no doubt of the influence she has had on me. Everything I learned about being a man, she taught me. I'm kind, caring, loving and someone you really don't want to fuck with when I'm angry. Sweet Jesus! I've become my mom... I'm more than okay with that, because once a Momma's boy, always a Momma's boy.