you know, the Dream Mother, the one I could tell hey, guess what? I just walked down the street and donated $4000 to the local library, and I didn't even feel the pinch, or have to move money around.

The one I could not-say-but-she'd-get-it-instantly, I'm becoming the kind of daughter you'd be proud of.

In real life, of course, my mother and I are Not in Contact, and probably never will be.

In real life, my real mother was never able to muster up much love for me, and her relationship to my relationship to money was to see if she could get some of it.

And yes, that's sad, and yet it's possible to imagine a different kind of mother, who would be proud and gleeful even. Who would say just the right warm kind of thing and a few tears would spring to my eyes as I let it sink into whatever gooey part of my innards that link to the tears. Maybe she'd send a little notecard a few days later, just to back it up.