I thought that I would give her a chance to come clean, and I told her so. A chance to explain why she did what she did. It was to be on my terms; no beating around the bush, and placing blame on those no longer around to defend themselves. I kept asking her if she understood, and even though she was silent on the other end of the phone, I knew her devious mind was working to contrive an answer that would absolve her of all culpability. I told her that I did not want to hear about how she loved us all, and just wanted me to be a "good girl". Another moment passed.
"I loved you all", she began. I hung up the phone.
I was hoping that she could do better than that. I really do want to know what drove her. Drove her to unspeakable acts, and words so hard that they are forever burned into my flesh. My brothers ( the ones I actually speak to) tell me to "forget it', "let it go". If only I could! If only I could flippantly look back, and say, yes it happened. I am no worse the wear for it. Could you please pass the salt?
Oh, but I am. Worse the wear, and then some. At night sometimes my skin burns from the memory, and I see in my mind's eye the raised bloody welts on my legs and back. Pretending to be whole when I am broken pieces held together by sheer will. There are those of us who will always remember, because we can't forget.
To be honest, I still long for a mother. A real one who kisses boo-boos; whose soft hands stroke your cheek as she plants a delicate kiss on your forehead. I guess I will always want that, and not the trash that I got. Oh well.
Still here.
Andi
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Your mom had something wrong, she was not well. Do you think she might have borderline personality disorder? (That's what the mom in "mommy dearest" had.) There's an excellent book for children of borderline moms called "Understanding the Borderline Mother" - it can be healing to understand the pathology behind behavior sometimes. You deserve to know. To understand. To be apologized to.
ReplyDeleteI'm not your mom. Only a friend. But I will tell you this: I'm sorry this happened. Every blow, every painful memory. You deserved none of it. Keep writing. You are helping others by sharing and in that, may there be some healing. If you could help even one other person to feel less alone, you will have succeeded.
And you've already done that.