I guess we all have them, I certainly did, but you don't realize that others do too until something happens, that many times brings them out into the open.
My mother had been sick for quite some time, dad having passed away a few years before so she had pretty much lived alone, though she had many friends that she spent a considerable amount of time with, which I was very grateful for as at the time, I lived a considerable distance away out of state.
So I guess depending on how you look at it, I was fortunate enough, or unfortunate to have been going through a divorce, and because of it, had moved back closer to home, and thus got to spend the last couple of months spending more time and visiting with my mother before she died.
But like I said, I was grateful that mom had so many friends and neighbors that spent time with her during the time I wasn't, and who were still there for her, as well as for me, afterwards.
After dad's death, mom had moved into a much smaller place a duplex that she shared with a woman who soon became her dearest of friends and neighbors. "Mabel" though everyone called her "May" had come over to help me sort through some of her things a few days after the funeral. Having already done this before when my father had died, I wasn't looking forward to doing it again, especially alone and with no real idea what to do with much of her stuff. The only direction I'd been given shortly before her death, was her desire and request that May be given first choice to take or have anything of hers that she wanted, that I didn't want or couldn't use. Needless to say, I was extremely grateful when she came over to help me sort through all of mom's things.
But it was while doing that, that I learned that my own mother had a few secrets too. Things I would never have suspected, guessed at, or certainly ever imagined. The one thing it did do besides surprise me, was teach me that my own mother was a normal human being, just like everyone else, still sometimes hard when you think in those terms regarding your own parents.
It was weird enough going through my mother's "unmentionables" as she called them as I had begun packing up several boxes of her clothing, things that would either be donated or thrown away, which is when I came across a vibrator, something I initially just stared at, trying to justify, somehow accept that she actually owned one, let alone used one. For some oddball reason, not quite able to wrap my head around the fact she'd even know what they were used for, though obviously she did ... and had.
But as awkward as that was, it was made even more so as May was sitting next to me packing a few other boxes at the same time that I was, and saw the shocked look on my face when I pulled out not only that particular item, but several others as well, including what turned out to be a double-dildo, which for the life of me, stunned me even more than the somewhat normal looking vibrator. I know I was blushing furiously as I looked up and saw May looking at me with a smile on her face.
"Let's go have a cup of coffee," she told me standing up. "I think maybe now's the time you and I had a little chat."
May was in her sixties, though I never learned her exact age, nor was it important that I ever did. But she also didn't look like she was either, even though she'd allowed her hair to turn naturally gray, almost white in fact somewhat prematurely, though it looked really good on her. She kept it cut really short, "easier to maintain," she had once told me, which I'm sure it was, but it also somehow made her blue eyes even bluer, which in turn made her face a bit younger looking giving lie to her true age.
May also had a reasonably nice shape, and like everyone in the middle years, an extra little padding here and there, but nothing that I felt detracted at all from her natural attractiveness, as May truly was a good-looking woman, which was another reason why I didn't fully understand her reason for never remarrying after her husband had died many, many years ago.
I had followed May next door to her place where we sat down at her kitchen table after pouring us both a cup of coffee. She sat looking at me over the rim of her cup as she sipped it, and then sitting it down in front of herself, reached her hand over placing it over mine as she spoke.
"Brad? You need to know ... your mother and I were more than just friends or neighbors, for the last year ... we were also lovers."
You could have knocked me over with a feather. At first, I didn't know what to say or how to respond to what May had just told me, it was too hard to believe for one thing. I was still struggling with the fact that mom 'masturbated' and actually used toys to do that with, and now this, which was even more shocking to me under the circumstances.
"Mom was a lesbian?" I blurted out in disbelief.
"Lesbian? No, I don't think so," May told me. "She was just a woman with normal every day needs, no different than you or I is all. And that I happened to be a woman, and the one person she could feel comfortable with, and confide in without fear, is what brought us together as lovers. So lesbian? No ... she wasn't. Did we do things that lesbians do together? Yes, of course we did. But I've never considered myself a lesbian either, and your mother was in fact the first and only woman I've ever been with. So ... just so you understand, neither one of us ever looked at it that way. We just saw it as two women who had grown close to one another, who felt comfortable enough with one another, to share a little needed pleasure from time to time."
I was still struggling with the image that had suddenly popped inside my head however, sitting there looking at May, having already mentally undressed her, seeing her with "mom" all tangled together on the bed, and then adding in my mind the scenario of the two of them hooked up together with the double-dildo I had found. I actually shook my head trying to dislodge the image. May laughed.
"Having a hard time with it I see," she said simply. "Cookie?"
May pushed a plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies my way. They were my favorite, though I seriously doubt she knew that.
"Have a cookie, you'll feel better."
At the moment I wasn't sure I could, the only thing I felt was a little numb.
"How what?" May answered back as I took a bite of my cookie. "How did the two of us become lovers?" she asked me back already surmising I was curious as I merely nodded my head. "Do you want the simple short version, or the long one with all the nitty-gritty details?"
To be perfectly honest, I wasn't sure I wanted to hear all the intimate little details, but then as I sat there looking at her, I decided that I did.
"Tell me everything," I responded. "I really am curious to know how mom could end up..."
"Being with, making love to ... having sex with another woman?" May finished for me.
I took another bite of my cookie without answering, just waiting for her response, though she smiled at me as I did understanding my feint.
"Well, ok Brad I will. But only as long as you understand a few things first, number one, your mother was a very sensual, and very open-minded woman, probably more than you know or would ever give her credit for being. So you need to understand and accept that first, or you'll never be able to understand or accept anything I tell you. And just because she was your mother, didn't mean she didn't have desires and needs and wants ... just like everyone else does, including yourself!"
"Ok," I responded trying to assure her I could do that, though she shook her own head negatively, still smiling however.
"Ok, secondly, you also need to know that your mother loved your father. So much so, that she had made a vow to herself, right or wrong, that she would never remarry. Oh Brad, you have no idea the number of evenings we spent discussing that one. Not that I was trying to change her mind about doing that, I mean after all, look at me. I never remarried either, but I also didn't live a life of celibacy. I had often discussed the point of her going out and at least dating, not with the intention of ever getting married or serious again with someone, but just for a little fun, and some sexual relief."
I was still having a hard time getting my head around the fact that mom needed sexual relief, though I was slowly warming to the fact she obviously masturbated, and how could I look down on her for that when it was something I did nearly every day myself?
May continued as she stood pouring us both another cup of coffee, taking the pot back to the kitchen counter giving me a chance to look at her with an observant eye, she really wasn't a bad looking woman for her age, and I again briefly saw mom and May together in my mind's eye as she turned and came back to the kitchen table sitting down.
"Your mother refused to get involved with anyone else however, stating that it would simply complicate things, inevitably, she felt like there would either be pressure on her to remarry again, or she would find herself falling in love with someone else, and then wanting to."
"And what's wrong with that?" I asked knowing that I would never be given an answer to that, not really anyway.
"Nothing," May agreed. "And even though I never remarried myself, it wasn't because I was afraid to do so, or had any misgivings about doing it, it's just that I liked living alone and not having to be accountable to anyone other than myself. Your mother however didn't look at it that way, she enjoyed the companionship, missed it. But she had also made that vow to herself that she just couldn't accept going against."
.... There is more of this story ...