Last weekend I drove the three hour journey to visit my mother. She lives in a tiny overpriced town tucked just across the West Virginia border nestled up against the Potomac. The view is absolutely breathtaking. The drive itself was incredible, the road leading to her house winding among the mountains and against the river.

Her employer, who she lives with as part of her compensation, is a very odd man. He is eighty-seven, opinionated as a mule, deaf as a door nail and adores putting people in their place. His life has been varied and glamorous. He was an OSS officer in WWII, an acclaimed author in the seventies and the son of two prominent celebrities. He has, in short, led a charmed life.

My mother knows him from her days in scientology as the Director of Public Affairs. He wrote a book on The Secret Life Of Plants (it's basically the premise that plants have feelings, or something like that) it was huge back in the days of free love and marijuana.

Upon my arrival, I was tested with spirited conversation as well as the admonition that "you need to speak slowly and clearly, my dear. You are much more beautiful when I can understand you." Apparently, I passed, because it was only a matter of hours before he began piling manuscripts upon me to read. His memoirs, his OSS accounts, his short story of his romp with Bridget Bardot. Oh yes, and a book on who financed WWII. (He's very much into conspiracy theory.)

I felt very... Bohemian. There were unexpected guests for dinner, so we all ate a little less and they played for their dinner. We drank wine with--everything. We ate pasta and talked of philosophy. I found myself considering and thinking about some of the more appealing ideas that he presented regarding religion and life. But I also found myself quietly refuting it with scripture. It was scary, all these appealing thoughts but it's good to question and make yourself think.

Visiting her was nice. I am now able to understand her perspective alot more. Even if it is a bit weird and creepish. I am able to see how she processes her thoughts. I was able to show her that even though she now believes in past lives and godknowswhatelse, I still love her.

For she is my Mum.