Tuesday, October 14, 2008

At arm's length

I was in my fifties when we finally talked about my childhood.

Oh, I'd asked questions and you'd given me a glimpse or two into your life - but in my cousin's kitchen, we enlightened each other. The safe distance we'd put between us was not there that morning. I found myself pouring out memories and stories about my life as your child. I talked about wanting to take my life at 15. I talked about the man in the park when I was 7. I talked about locking you out of your house when I was 5. I talked about what it was like to be your baby and see you through the bars in my crib and know you would not be coming in to hold me.

I was in my fifties when I finally felt you loved me.

With the Kansas sunlight spilling across the table and all those clocks ticking around us, you said the words I'd needed to hear forever. "I am so sorry, Debbie. I was not there for you."

You believed then that it was a wife's duty to put her husband first and her children second. It was your intense love for my father that kept you at a distance from me. To the 20-something you, there was only so much love to go around. You had to be frugal. You learned to hold me at arm's length and I learned to take attention anywhere I could find it.

I was in my fifties when, finally, I stopped.

I love you mom.

3 comments:

debtink said...


Inspiration

Cassandra said...

This is wonderful, thank you so much for sharing it with me. You put your words together beautifully.<3

debtink said...

cassandra - thank you for reading this! Your art is so beautiful.