This year has been weird, weird because I tried something new. I took a step back and let something that had felt out of my control for years be out of my control. I stopped pushing, trying, fighting, and shape-shifting. Instead, I waited. I took my hands off of my relationship with my mom and submitted it to God. I was at rock bottom, our relationship hit an all-time low in January. We were no longer Rory and Lorelai, we were Emily and Lorelai careening towards Emily and Gran. Things were bad. Our communication was broken, and both of us seemed to be unbothered by the problems, allowing it to be the status quo. For just shy of a decade our relationship had been in a bad place. My life took a wrong turn when I was in college and never righted its course. We were no longer pals, but secretive enemies.

I thought this was the final destination for our relationship. I was not hopeful. I put it down and left it. For months I barely spoke to my mom. For six months we did not see each other. It was the longest break we ever took. Even when I moved 14 hours away, we saw each other within 5 months. The distance was too far. This year it felt like I lived on the other side of the world. It pushed me to be still to process what I was doing wrong and to realize what I wished our relationship could be like.

When my mom had surgery this summer, the thought of a complication taking her away woke me up out of this experiment in distance. I visited her and it was strained, but doing a normal thing, like visiting your mom after surgery, seemed to bring a little normalcy back to our unbridled mess. As she recovered our relationship ebbed and flowed like tides. One day we’d be comfortable, warm, and friendly. The next it was cold, distant, irritating. I began to wonder if the small bit of hope was just that a small taste. That maybe it was what it was, and I needed to adjust my expectations. Could we get along in my adulthood? I was uncertain and began to think that maybe my mom was my best friend as a kid because I was young and different. Like my personality and needs have changed and that was how it was. I began to encourage myself to accept it, but I didn’t like it.

But then August and September came and something changed. They came to visit us, and we went to visit them. We stayed for the weekend and went to a familiar fall haunt, the Antiques in the Woods show in Ohio. I had fun, I remembered the past times we had together at this event, and I met a friend of my mom and grandma’s who told me how much they loved my mom. They told me stories of moments I missed over the past decade when I was not interested in spending time with my mom and painted a portrait I hadn’t seen in a while. They reminded me of who my mom could be and why I was always so proud to have her be my chaperone on school trips or invite friends over to my house because my mom can be really cool and a sweetheart. All the baggage of grief, growing pains, family fights, moves, it had all clouded my vision. I was seeing through the eyes of pain and past, I wasn’t seeing her in real-time.

We hung out with them again recently and went to Erie Bluffs State Park. I remembered how much I loved traveling with my mom. When the trip began my plan was to show her Erie in hopes that she would like a place I was considering moving to, but instead, I felt this pull to not leave again. I felt this peace to remain where I am and be comfortable in the familiar and close proximity to home. To not be afraid of staying close to home and not be scared or ashamed of my roots. I’ve learned a lot this year and I feel immense gratitude for the process of how I learned because if I had not fully walked away, my eyes may have stayed clouded in the lens of the past instead of looking toward the future and appreciating what is right in front of me. My Lorelai to my Rory, my home that still remains, the ideal mom-dad-dog-plus a husband that fits like a missing puzzle piece, the family I always wanted. I just needed to wait and be open to things getting better.

Will we probably fight again? Oh most definitely, but have I learned you can repair what is broken. Yes. And that is what I am grateful for. That might be the most important life lesson because it teaches resiliency.