I thought that I had posted about this. But maybe I decided it was too depressing? I guess I thought I had posted about a few things but really maybe I spoke to actual present people about them.

In July or August, it had been a while since my Mom had said my name. She is, without a doubt, the best faker in the world. That woman’s social intelligence. She doesn’t really fool me, but she does.  Because when you say “Hey Mom, how are you?” She has never said to me: Who are you weird stranger, I’m not your mother.  Which leaves open the possibility that she does not think I am a weird stranger who thinks I am her daughter. She thinks I’m her daughter. But she wasn’t saying my name.

And then suddenly, we were packing to go to Rhode Island for the engagement party. And my Dad and I are debating what to pack for my Mom — a bathing suit? And my Dad says he doesn’t know where her bathing suit is. I say, it’s in the closet. And my Mom says, “See Katie knows where it is.”  Reader, I wept.

And there was another time in the fall, I was leaving and she said “Bye Katie.” I turned to Greg on the way out the door, crying, “She said my name.”

And then in February I realized, I had to admit to myself. It hasn’t happened in a while. I’m getting much more of that, hello friendly stranger thank you for this hug it is fine vibe.

It shouldn’t hurt so much. It’s not like you don’t know this day is coming. And it’s not like she’s violently attacked me or even pushed off my hug. But you know, looking at your mom and seeing just a placid acceptance rather than recognition. Turns out it sucks.

And it sucks that I’m not really sure she doesn’t know who I am. I’m hopeful every time I see her — will she say my name? Will she do something that shows she’s not being polite, that she knows who I am, or even that I’m her kid?  Did that already happen for the last time?