3 Text Messages

PROMPT: A drama including a music festival and earplugs. (I was disqualified on this one for not following the prompt, but I’m proud of my first attempt at drama.)

Do I text, or do I call? I spend the morning trying to decide and the pros and cons aren’t helping.

Texting Pro: Fewer chances for Mom to smother me with over-the-top and unwanted concern.

Texting Con: I potentially insult her and look like a jerk. I am her only child and it will hurt her if I don’t call on her most dreaded day of the year. 

Calling Pro: Texting Con in reverse.

Calling Con: Texting Pro in reverse.

See? Not helpful. Now onto worst case scenario analysis. 

Worst case scenario:  An energy-draining conflict resulting in being too bummed to leave for the RRG Music Festival, followed by a retreat to my bed with potato chips and vodka.

Am I willing to risk looking like a complete jerk for texting instead of calling if it means a huge decrease in the likelihood of an exhausting conflict? I think I am.

Our last argument left me a total stress ball, and I’ve been looking forward to this festival for months. My bag is packed. My ride will be here soon. I don’t want to miss it. 

I’m gonna text.

Hey Mom, thinking of you today. Dad would say to do something fun, something you love, because hard and sad can exist on the same day as fun and joy. I hope you find some joy today! Can’t wait to hear about it at Thanksgiving next month. Love you.

Sent 11:56 a.m.

…

It’s almost noon when I finally hear from her. I weeded the garden, vacuumed, took the car for an oil change, and then stared at my phone for an hour while my coffee got cold, wondering if she would call at all.

When my phone dings and I see her name, I feel a flash of relief — she didn’t forget — then a wave of grief — she couldn’t be bothered to call.

The text means we probably won’t talk until Thanksgiving, since I’m not allowed to call her. I can’t ask if she’s eating okay or remind her to watch her drink at parties, and to remember to bring her earplugs when she goes to the basketball games because the noise gives her a migraine. She needs “space” and wants me to “respect” her independence. Well this isn’t very respectful of her. 

She could be dating someone I’ve never met. She could be engaged by Thanksgiving for all I know! Oh God, if she comes to Thanksgiving with a fiance I’ve never met I will be mortified. I need to ask. It’s only fair not to blindside me with a new fiance in front of my family. 

I’m typing when Ruby barges through the front door. She sweeps right in, grabbing a vase from under my sink and filling it with the bouquet of sunflowers she brought with her.

I slide my phone toward her so she can read the text. 

“Oh, that’s so sweet!” 

I look at it again. It is definitely not sweet to fail to call your mother on the tenth anniversary of her husband’s death.

“This day must be really hard for her. I lost my Dad as a teenager too, it was tough,” Ruby continues, “I wonder if she’s doing something fun today?”

I delete what I typed about bringing a fiance I haven’t met to Thanksgiving, which I now realize might be taken out of context and make me seem crazy. She’d probably overreact anyway. Ruby gave me a better idea. She’ll have to respond and it doesn’t break any of her rules.

Do you have anything fun planned today?

Sent 12:07 p.m.

…

“Your mom texted,” my roommate Amber yells when I get out of the shower, “You want me to read it?”

“Please?” I ask, followed by a brilliant brainstorm, “And if it’s going to ruin my weekend, can you just delete it?”

“It’s fine!” Amber yells, “She just asked if you have anything fun planned today.”

It seems fine, I agree. Maybe I should try an honest answer.

Honest Answer Pro: It’s true. Plus it gives Mom an opportunity to not smother. Her not smothering is positive for our relationship.

Honest Answer Con: The festival is a huge party and even a small party is a too-juicy opportunity for Mom to refrain from unsolicited advice.

When I come out of my room, I see Amber has poured a glass of wine and set it next to my phone. “Thanks,” I say. 

“Need anything else?” 

“Yes,” I hold up my phone, “I’m telling my mom about the Festival. If she responds with anything other than ‘have fun,’ will you delete it?”

I’m heading to the RRG Music Festival with my roommate and some friends. We’ve been planning it for months and I’m really excited! 

Sent 12:12 p.m.

…

“Oh, she’s going to RRG Fest?” Ruby snoops over my shoulder, “My son went two years ago and loved it. He brought me back a T-shirt.”

“It’ll be loud. She needs to remember earplugs.” I start typing.

“She’s a grown-up,” Ruby chides.

“But if she doesn’t bring earplugs she’ll get a migraine.” 

“Then she’ll be a grown-up with a migraine.” 

“It’s my job to protect her,” I offer, but even I can hear how weak it sounds. 
Even if she needs an earplug reminder, she doesn’t want to hear it from me. “I don’t know what to say to her anymore.”

“Why don’t you think about what you would say if you trusted her completely and then say that?” Ruby is both wise and annoying.

Have fun sweetheart. Love you. I wouldn’t hate a T-shirt ;) 

Sent 12:19 p.m.

…

I briefly wonder if she was kidnapped, but decide it’s more likely we had a breakthrough. 

Amber’s phone dings with its own message. “Ooh!” She says, “Our ride is outside.”

I remember something as I’m grabbing my bag.

“Do you think they’d mind stopping at the pharmacy on the way? I need to grab some earplugs.”