My mother's mother died two years ago last November. It was very hard on my mom, and it didn't help that she was raised in the home of people who were afraid to throw things out. So when my mom was visiting her dad, she mentioned that I had asked her to french braid my hair for graduation, he dug out a peanut butter jar of hair clips that he insisted she take. I was happy to have a bonding moment, but when my mom began braiding my hair, I quickly realized she didn't remember things the way she though she did. My parents are in their 50s, but my mom had a bad accident when she was thrown from a horse. Instead of french braiding my hair, she began braiding my hair into cornrows. Not what I wanted. The next morning, instead of waking up with subtle waves, I had crimped hair. After I cried, and straightened my hair, and rushed to my ceremony, I realized, it wasn't about my hair. It was about giving something of my grandmother's a purpose again. The thing is, my grandmother probably hadn't used these clips in the last decade. So my mom used them, most likely to use them, but I can't really blame her.
The first picture is of these same clips in my drawer. That says something. I felt bad throwing them away, what if my mom came over and asked for them back? I'd feel horrible, but the likelihood of that happening, or her even remembering is very slim. This was all the weekend of the 12th. Tonight, it's the 26th, exactly two weeks later. Tonight is the night, my grandmother is not in these old (some rusted) hair clips, and neither is my responsibility to my mother.
In the trash they go. They didn't take up much space, but they were a reminder of my awkward and stressed relationship with my mother, and her own stress and stuff. Hopefully, when I go home for my two-day-crusade, I'll be able to carry this over and get some of my old things out of their house. Feels good.
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