a moment in life

why am i, who i am and what really makes me tick? i have to admit i have been around a really long time now and i'm still not really sure.

i was talking on the phone, to my boy back home yesterday. we were discussing which colour black he was about to dye his hair. he is of the firm conviction that at this moment in time...his haircut is looking really preppy and that the sun streaked blonde he is presently flaunting is merely adding to the preppy illusion.

i forget quite where we were in the conversation when he said..
"you were really nasty to me ma, the first time i dyed my hair black."
me...nasty...and to one of my precious offspring...nah!
"i don't remember that pj, what did i say, when was it"
pj chuckled...
"man i think i was still in college, you and dad had moved down to southport. my hair was really long...remember when i had the pony tail? anyway...the black really didn't suit me and i was upset about it and you said...
' well hopefully you will learn not to continually mess around, changing your hair colour'...
i was really hurt ma. cause i was already feeling bad, you could have said...not to worry it will wash out, grow out...something like that."
omg!!!
me, totally mortified...
"i'm so sorry pj, who was that person...it doesn't even sound like me!"
pj, laughing now ... "it's ok ma...you aren't like that anymore."

the memory of a young man, hurt by his mum's cavalier attitude towards his crowning glory.

i remember now, i was that person...
boy children don't keep changing their hair colour!
it was before...
before he discovered he loved men, before the gut wrenching heartache of his coming out to us.
i had already survived cancer, my sister had not, i had lost my beloved mother. i had already experienced the depths of pain and loss and despair and emerged stronger and (i thought) wiser.
i should have known better, i should have been kinder, more simpatico.
i was not, i was simply the me of ten years ago.

sometimes when i look back at my younger self, i marvel at the stranger i no longer really know.
we are not set in concrete...
we are a series of lessons, of steps, some forward, some backward, we are a work in progress.