Parental issues again.
Mom called me at work today to tell me she finally got in touch with the piano tuner. This is extremely good news since the piano hasn't been tuned in about three years and practically causes hemorrhaging of the ears when played. I teach lessons on this thing, mind you, so it makes things even more difficult. Anyway, she tells me of the exchange between her and the piano tuner.
Piano Tuner: So I haven't heard from you in quite a while.
Mom: Yeah, well, it's my daughter who plays. She got married and moved out, so no one was really playing. Her marriage failed so she's back home now.
Hello?! Why don't we see a problem here? She essentially disclosed one of the most personal events of my life to a perfect stranger and saw nothing wrong with it. She really thinks that she has the right to talk about it whenever and with whomever she chooses; the piano tuner, any random co-worker, the clerk working the checkout line at Meijer...whomever. The reasons for her behaving this way, I know, are threefold:
- She likes the sympathetic pat on the back reaction she gets whenever she mentions it.
- It's all part of her Jewish Mother Routine that she does about seventy-five percent of her waking hours.
- To her, the marriage, the divorce, and everything in between happened as much to her as it did to me.
So I calmly explained to her that I don't want her talking to people about that part of my life, that I'd like to just forget about it. She had the audacity to act put out that I requested she keep her trap shut about my personal life. She brightly responded, "Well, I'd like to forget about the three days of labor I went through when you were born, but I can't do that, can I?" (once again, the Jewish Mother Routine...) As if the two are even in the same ball park.
I have no idea what the solution is, but this must stop...