NO.52 Mom Friends

My father had white hair, drank alcohol like it was water every day, and was thin, perhaps because of his medication.
Even so, he was full of himself, insisting, "I'm cool."
My mother managed everyone's salary in the family and went to the pachinko parlor every day.
She was also in a state of turning a blind eye to the fact that the entire family had filed for bankruptcy.
We were a family that couldn't take out loans from credit cards or consumer finance companies, yet my mother wouldn't stop playing pachinko.
Even though the whole family told her to "stop playing pachinko" many times, she couldn't stop for even a single day.
My father said, "She's sick. Just leave her alone."
Not one of us ever thought about trying to take the salaries she was managing.
Everyone in the family was afraid of my mother.

I was pregnant with my third child. When my children started elementary school, it became an opportunity to get to know many other moms. I often talked to the parents of my children's classmates.
Once we got to know each other and became friends, we were able to go out for lunch or tea when we had time. It was just going to a family restaurant after a PTA meeting, leaving the children with my husband.
When you become close, you end up hearing a lot of things.
Most of it was just people badmouthing others.
There was even someone who was nicknamed "The Broadcast" behind her back. They said this "Broadcast" person would approach parents of classmates to try and get close to them, then ask about their family structure, jobs, and sometimes even their annual income, only to tell everyone else about it.
I didn't know this "Broadcast" person was like that, so I ended up telling her about my family structure and where I lived.
I never told anyone that my whole family had gone bankrupt because of my mother's pachinko addiction.

As I made more mom friends, I became so afraid of not being invited that I felt anxious. Perhaps that's why I always seemed to be fawning over the central mom in the group.
(I don't want to be disliked.)
(I don't want to be left out.)
(I don't want to be alone because it's embarrassing.)
I was afraid of people's gazes.

When my mother lost at pachinko, she would try to tag along with me.
When I told her where the mom lunch gathering was, she would pretend to just happen to be there.
She would approach the table where I and my mom friends were sitting, say "I'm Aozora's mother!", and the surrounding moms would say, "Well, since it's just lunch, why don't you join us?", and naturally, my mother would sit down.
My mother would start saying to the moms around her, "Why don't we all go to a yakiniku restaurant sometime?", and they would go along with it, saying, "That sounds great!" She would smile and say, "I'll pay, since I'm the oldest," and they would happily reply, "Are you sure?"
Unlike her face at home, my mother was very good at putting on a front.
My mother would play the role of a kind mother and grandmother, saying things like, "Aozora is my third child, you know."
There were five moms who went to the promised yakiniku restaurant, plus me and my mother, making seven in total.
The day before, my mother had told me, "You're paying for everything!"

I couldn't refuse. The mom friends swarmed in.
It was behavior that made me wonder, (Are these mom friends actually friends?)
On the day, we ate our fill peacefully at the yakiniku restaurant and then dispersed.
Immediately after we parted ways, my mother said to me, "Since I kept you company today, give me some money. Consider it my wages."

And, without me realizing it, my mother had been spreading bad rumors about me to my mom friends.
"Aozora doesn't do anything around the house."
"She doesn't raise her children."
"I have to keep an eye on Aozora, or she'll go to the pachinko parlor."
"Aozora's husband has a low salary, so I'm taking care of them," she would lie and spread rumors without a second thought.

The mom friends I was initially close with started to become distant little by little.
The mom friends I had worked so hard to make, the ones I could finally talk to, all disappeared.
And then my mother would say to me with a smile, "See? That's all mom friends are worth in the end. You only have me, right?"

I couldn't understand at all whether my mother wanted to monopolize me or if she just hated the idea of me making more friends and acquaintances.

In my childhood memories, whenever I told my mother, "I want to go play at a friend's house," she would firmly say, "No!"
When I asked her "Why?", she told me, "Because you'll go to someone else's house and compare our home to theirs, thinking, 'Oh, what a nice house.' I really hate that."

My mother must be number one above everyone else.
I have no choice but to obey my mother. There are no other options.
I must prioritize my mother's pleasure over my mom friends and my own enjoyment.

A story I learned later came from one of my mom friends.
"Aozora-san, I'm sorry I couldn't talk to you much. Your mother borrowed money from a lot of people. None of the people around her lent her any, but they were all saying that you were the cause of it."

My mother told lies, distanced me from those around me, and enjoyed seeing me isolated.