Today’s my mothers birthday. For me this day still brings me to my knees, my chest aches in such a heavy throb all damn day. I’m a logical, smart realist and this be a day my heart & mind battle. September 22nd. I have so many awful yuckies and from September 1st on I’m trying to prepare with non stop pep talks, like a Harvard football coach, if geniuses play football. No self chat can stop my heart from crumbling today, the little girl today deserves to have a day to come forward recognize her sadness, visit those memories bursting to the surface. Let my guards drop the swords and hug her. It’s ok to not be ok.
I have relived this day like Groundhog Day of nearly 30 years of broken hearts. I remember your disappointed face, the yelling, the guilt, dad forgetting the violent slap around they had for hours when he did come home. Dad was known to sleep in the logging truck rather than come home. I can’t blame him I did the same by staying with so many other families just to sleep without worrying awaiting her to bust in raging over who knew what. On puns & needles they say no no on gernaides of uncertain hate beat downs. I’m looking out my window watching those beautiful autumn leaves fall, I love fall I love where I am, it’s gorgeous.. boom! I’m 11 and your hitting me over and over cause I ruined your birthday, I remember you running, slamming doors, crying and whaling in complete distress because our gifts were not good enough. Never ever good enough. I can see your scary eyes bulging out as you yelled on my face. Yell, yell, name calling, crying the insanity, the pressure the tension always scared. Not s year that the day didn’t end in at least a week in bed not talking to me, the silent treatment., the not looking in my direction, that guilty fucking sadness with no reason just no reason .
I was pretty young I can see white strap top shoes going up the Riley broom general store porch, hollow dry boards creeked. At the back of the old store between the coke cooler and front cash was a glass display area that had a few gifts you could buy, just about anything you could need was there. I felt fear not excitment as gazing over the cute coffee cups, clocks, plates and spoons with fancy patterns. I was so afraid to pick anything, what would please her? Just a smile. I picked up a glass plate that had a farm wagon painted on it, a prairie looking round wagon. I knew you loved little house on the prairie, instant certainty calmed my knotted tummy. As my aunt wrapped up the plate and little wall hanger I paid with my milk money I had saved. My grams drove me home I ran up the steps into the house. You were standing at the kitchen sink back towards me/ you never turned to acknowledge I entered the room, ever! Just cold awkward silence. I could feel I was inconveniencing you yet I knew this plate would fix your day of crying. I spoke not sure exact words, immediately you turned quickly with a sharp knock in the teeth because of that graduation ring, those wedding bands.. that familiar metal taste of annoyance. You saw the bag in my hands and ripped it away, snorting and pulling yourself together. I remember you opening the paper and seeing the plate… nothing for the longest time.. your eyes began to fill with darkness, I knew.. I just knew. As I back away the smash of the plate hit the floor in front my shoes shattering into dust it felt. I just turned and ran. I ran to my grams house, I wanted to cry, I felt that deep throb inside but I knew the biggest rule… never say a fucking thing to that God damn cunt! That’s how she referred to the woman I loved the most, my gram. There again I sat wishing I could just say it. Mom hit me and threw s plate at me.. I knew.. just knew not.
Thats the only uncomfortable flash back in time today. I’ve visited the tantrums the rage the aching tummy. It’s all very real, very very real and I can’t no matter my realism make this stop. I can help myself get through these memories and deal as best with the horrible anxiety I feel. Yet I continue my regular duties, hiding here and there to catch my breathe,, fighting the yuckies with a straw today but tmr I’ll begin to rise my sword again.
Dear little girl:
I can’t take any of this away. If I could protect you I would. I know your in agony today while anticipating the attack that’s sure to come. A card, message who knows what I’ve even gotten flowers with hate notes inside, ripped up photos? A non stop cut off voice mail? Little girl it’s ok. It’s not your hate to feel. You will grow a voice. I hug you and hold you close today, if you need to grieve it’s ok I am as well for your sad little face. I wish you could see that someday you’ll feel safe.
Today will pass as have they all. It’s ok to not be ok dear vulnerable girl.
We will do this.
Happy birthday. I’m thinking of you. I hope my thoughts find you safe. Mom I feel your sadness though miles away. Mom please find peace this is my wish for you, may it be a birthday miracle.
I wish that today as you sit alone because of your actions you decide that maybe just maybe it was time to get proper help & care. Maybe just maybe you will.
Mom I love you.
Happy birthday from the invisible girl