Hot Tea

You know, my mother always told me I should always be who I want to be. Then she spent her whole life trying to impress other people. I always wondered why she acted like that. Why she was everyone's pawn in their game of chess.
I have this one distinct memory of her. I was probably ten at the time. She was having these women over. These uptight, haughty women. They were totally unlike my mother. And they were coming over to have tea. Tea. My mother hated tea. Even the sight of it. The word 'tea' disgusted her. But there she was. Sitting in our parlor, (all of a sudden we had a parlor) drinking tea with these purse-lipped women.
And at one point the other women became locked in conversation. And she looked over at me. She made this face. This classic disgusted face. I giggled. She did too. And at that moment I felt like I truly knew my mother. The real woman.
But the moment flickered and died. "Winifred" the women said. Winifred. She was Wendy to everyone in the free world, but these women, these high cheek- boned matching gloves and handbag women only called her Winifred. She snapped her head back to them and laughed. A cold high laugh. I can still feel it in my bones. Who was that woman? I didn't know Winifred.
When she got sick and I came to see her it had been six years. I didn't know what to expect. When I got to the desk and asked to see Wendy Mason, the nurse looked almost relieved.
"Are you of relation?" she asked, I suppose only because it was protocol. She's my mother, I said. "Thank goodness you're finally here. She won't speak to anyone. She said she won't say a word until she sees her daughter one last time." The nurse guided me to her room.
I was shocked. My mother and I hadn't spoken in six years. And yet she wanted to talk to me. She demanded to see me.
When we got to the door, the nurse knocked softly and said, "Ms. Mason your daughter is here to see you." I heard her whisper, "Bring her in." From outside the door I could hear the sound of the machine helping her breathe. I took a deep breath and walked in.
She… looked like a robot. She was hooked up to countless machines with tons of wires around her head. It was frightening to think that that creature was once a lively young woman who craved only acceptance.
I went to her said and sat. I smiled and said "Hi Mom." It was all I could think of. She took my hand and said one simple statement:
"Alice , be the woman I never could."