Wordsley, Stourbridge, England: 19 degrees, warmish, sunny and slightly cloudy.
It’s the day after I made the big decision to go back, to return to Brazil.
Yesterday, I bought a KLM flight ticket, and if everything goes smoothly, I should be back for Yasmin’s birthday. I will fly on the morning of 6th June, transfer in Schiphol, Amsterdam, and in just over an hour, I should be on the flight to Rio.
It’s a day flight, hopefully it should go reasonably quickly and not be too tedious. The ETA in Rio is for 8:00 p.m., and hopefully again I won’t be held up at customs or get a taxi, so I should be in Praia do Botafogo around 10:00 p.m.
I haven’t told Yasmin, Nalva, or Jessica that I am returning. The initial idea was not to, but let’s see. I don’t know whether it’s a good idea to tell them or not; I have just over a week to decide.
The atmosphere in the house feels heavy; my mother and I are barely speaking, just exchanging the bare minimum. This morning, she was cleaning the kitchen floor, so I took the opportunity to tell her that I have bought a ticket to go back.
I got the impression that she was surprised; she had not expected it so soon. Perhaps I have been defiant in acting against her will to control me. Or maybe, even though it is a surprise, it is a relief for her.
What really hurts is that, before coming to England, I had given her a vote of confidence because I believed she would change. How stupid, naive, or even optimistic I was and have been, people do not change their spots in terms of their essence; their essence never changes.
Every time I went out with Julie, my mother would try to make me feel guilty, often using cooking, dinner times, and her routine to manipulate me and gain some leverage. If I didn’t fall for her tactics, things would only get worse.
When I first started going out with Julie, I tried to make her understand that at 58, I have my own life and the right to be happy with whoever I choose, but it was no good; she was already determined that I should return to Brazil and ultimately give things another go with Nalva.
But now, upon reflection, maybe it is because my mother has been alone for so long and has always pushed people away. It is unfamiliar for her to have a family member near her these days and to interact with that person daily.
I believe the core of my mother is not, and has never been, very loving. So, even though I have tried my best while here, it is something she is not used to and cannot accept or live with.
Perhaps her independence is so important to her that she’s used to being self-sufficient, and having someone else around could be an added worry, not being convenient for her in her old age; if it ever was.
My disappointment and sense of betrayal by my mother in this situation run deep and have reopened many old wounds, including past issues I thought were long dead and buried. It’s strange how one simple action can trigger a chain of subsequent actions and memories that we believed had been lost forever.
On the other side is Julie, supposedly devastated, crying profusely and questioning my actions, repeatedly asking why I would leave her. In some ways, she has valid reasons, but in others, she does not. We are adults; she knows I have a history in Brazil with two daughters waiting for me there. It is only a matter of time before I have to go back for some reason.
I also believe she is a little selfish in saying, ‘Why would you leave me?’ and ‘I do not understand why you would do this?’, which, for me, is very egocentric and a blatant form of emotional blackmail. I also feel Julie has done very little to make me want to stay.
Over the past two and a half months of our relationship, it has been difficult for me to be pulled between my mother and her. It is also very hard for others to understand the situation when I talk about my mother; only those who have had direct contact with her truly know what she is like.
I am angry, but it will pass. I am just letting things happen and take their course. If it is meant to be, it will be; if not, then it was never meant to be.
It is late afternoon, and Julie picked me up, taking me into the stunning British countryside. Just five minutes by car from where my mother lives, we were driving along beautiful winding roads lined with trees, woodlands, and farmland. Now and then, you spot an old farmhouse or the entrance to a farm; the connecting towns and villages via the country roads are a delight in themselves.
We visited the small, narrowboat marina and then went to the navigation pub, which is situated next to a canal with quite a few narrowboats berthed along its edge. We walked a little, and on the way back, we popped into the pub, had two cappuccinos, and played Gin Rummy. Playing cards in the pub was sublime; it was a truly quintessential moment for me.
It was also funny that the barmaid was surprised, even shocked, that I had remembered her name from our previous visit.
A lovely, gentle evening spent with someone special.
In bed by 11:00 p.m.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.
Richard
