Mother

Mother I haven’t been answering all your calls
Many times your name registers on the phone and I can’t bring myself to say hello
When we do talk I find myself very impatient and short with you
You seem to be falling short in every way
The other day you let my daughter down again and I was pissed
I drove away thinking I don’t care if you never see my children again
Perhaps this is what you deserve
I thought to hell if I will let you dismiss her the way you did me
As I drove home fuming I wondered again why I come back to visit
I know. I love you. But damn you!
I remember when you sat on the couch and didn’t stir as he beat the shit out of me
Yes, you put meals on the table. We never went hungry.
Not for food
I remember hiding in your closet, smelling your sweater and crying for you to come home from work
Yes, you never left us, but you did leave us there
I remember telling you I just wanted to live with Grandma, I couldn’t live that way anymore
You told me nice girls didn’t say such things about their family
I told you so much. Where did my words go? Were they ever heard? I never saw an impact.
I searched for understanding and decided sharing my feelings was a painfully awful idea
Remember when I showed you the cuts all over my wrists? You told me it was a silly thing to do, and turned back to the TV.
Why did you decide to listen when my sister spoke of his sexually abusing her? Had my experiences not been worthy?
You ripped us from our lives in less than 24 hours.
You told me to stop crying. So I did. And then I couldn’t start again.
Oh, what a blissful time that was after the initial shock of abruptness. Peace in our house like I had never known.
You promised not to look away anymore. You promised he had no more control over us.
So why did you bring him back to our home less than a year later? Nice Christmas present mom. Surprise! Your father lives here again!
You forgave him. We needed to do the same.
Why did it frustrate you that I would not agree? I would like to ask why it didn’t surprise you when I chose that time to start using drugs. But the truth is, you never really saw that either. Not until it was too late. Not until it almost killed me.
Picture a small child huddled in fear and shame and excruciating pain, in the same room with her mother. The child is screaming and crying and making a huge scene. The mother flits around finding things to do, humming songs. Every now and then she may even try to make the girl laugh or giggle with a silly tune or a funny face. She never offers any comfort though.
That was us mom.
Now when I am upset you want to tell me how your feelings are hurt when I am not incredibly pleasant to you?
YOU want ME to think of YOUR feelings before mine?
No mother. I am angry. I can hardly listen to your voice. Most the time I don’t want to look at you.
You never allowed us to be angry. I don’t need your permission anymore
My heart is screaming out that you are not allowed to make mistakes now
You owe me that
Wisdom tells me that’s not possible
A battle has been waged within
This time I will let the fires burn
This time I will learn how to restore the mess left by the flames
In the meantime, you may want to get used to the sound of my voicemail