Mothers and Daughters and Seeking a Geographical Cure


I was a good mother. I know I was. But consult my adult daughter, mother of four adorable kids, aged three to thirteen. Whom I next-to-never see.  If I’m around, she can’t  breathe without reminding anyone nearby how lacking in mothering skills I was. Was I really that poor a mother?  A couple years ago, I began to doubt her double-barreled  guilting. Thanks be to God.

It is difficult info to absorb that much dissing on a regular basis. Veerrrry difficult.  So I took the easy way out and moved to another state.  I know what you’re thinking. A geographical cure never works! Wherever you go, there you are.  But so far, it’s working for me.

New Mexico, land of Enchantment, spirituality and New Age thinking. I love it here. Mystical experiences abound.  Every fourth denizen has had visions or at least, hallucinations.  Many eschew shaving, dying hair, deodorant, etc.

I hear there’s even NEW THOUGHT that white hair is in. I don’t buy it, however.  

I just don’t go there. Unless your face can launch a thousand ships, white hair doesn’t enhance anything but fringe on a couch.

Albuquerque is a retirement haven with seven, count ’em, seven senior centers offering classes in everything from osteoporosis to safe sex for seniors.

There’s beauty in almost any direction and geographical setting.  Striking golden cottonwoods, the Rio Grande, the Jemez Mountains.  And weirdest of the weird? Santa Fe.

But these folks are my kind of people. Tolerant, forgiving, mostly educated, artistic, and old.


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