Revelation

I was laying in bed trying to take a nap but the kids were making too much noise and there was too much light. I thought maybe I could take my husbands wooby and place it over my eyes like he does to block out at least the light and maybe even some of the noise. Within moments of placing the wooby over my eyes I had a flashback to my mother standing in front of the mirror at our old house in Gridley, the non-haunted one. She was leaning in, holding up her lip and wiggling her teeth. I have had this flash back many times, at least twice a week for years now. This time instead of brushing it off as I normally do, I followed it. I saw how messed up her face was, it was bloody, she had a black eye with blood in it. I remembered the night it happened and how her face got that way. Her boyfriend, Gator, had beaten her to a pulp right in front of me, my brother and Gator’s son. I had gotten scared and gone to call 911, but the gravel in the drive had hurt my feet too much. Gator’s son Butch had chased me down and stopped me. I had called to him though when he passed me in the dark. I felt that that was a betrayal of my mom.
Back to the flashback, for the first time my vision of that flashback panned back to reveal a little girl standing next to the doorway peeking around the corner at her mom. Her mom said nothing comforting, she said, “What are you looking at?” That is all I remember visually. I do remember being very afraid, more fear than I had ever known, even more than when she and Jerry had fought. This was before Jerry was in the orchard next door with his friends looking for the house. But, that little girl was more afraid than any little girl should be, I was only 8 or 9. I had never realized that I was that little girl, had never acknowledged it…now for the first time not only was I acknowledging it…I was embracing it. That little girl was me, that afraid, sad, uncomforted little girl was me. I suddenly started crying…for the little girl without a mother, for the loss of my childhood, for the fact that no one stepped in, for the fact that my father was fighting but destined to fail. I cried in sadness, fear, hatred and acceptance all the same time. I cried a lot, but I also walked away with a vow or two. I vow that in my power as a teacher I will never let a child go without comfort, I will never allow abuse or neglect to go unchecked. I vow that I will never be my mother, a selfish horrible bitch who put the bottle and her own desires above the needs of her children. She stopped being my mother when I was six, I will finally stop chasing her approval and her love. She hasn’t been my mother for 27 years, why do I keep hoping that she will suddenly become motherly? Well, I have stopped doing that too…I am done with her. I don’t feel sorry for her except as one would feel sorry for someone else’s mother who has dug a trench around her.