Darkness
December 6, 2006
The darkness comes at night. She will arrive, in denim and lipstick. She seems innocent enough, once my mother, now a stranger. She apologizes without malice, for all the things she has said, for all the nights of wine and vomit, for all the slaps to the side of my heart. A twinge in my gut won’t allow me to forgive her and she grows angry with my defiance of her. She won’t leave until I say “It’s okay.”
But it’s not okay, I boom. I’m angry. I’m not usually sad about her. I want her to go away and never come back. I want her to die from my mind. She left my heart a long time ago when she repeated history by abusing her boyfriend’s daughter. Regret doesn’t even register at thoughts of saving the little girl that was me 20 years later.
I wake up and thoughts of her will haunt me for days after dreaming of her. It’s always the same plot. Her begging forgiveness and then growing angry when I don’t give it to her. The darkness is in her wild hair, her eyeliner, the bags under her eyes, and a cancer in her heart. As a girl, I used to believe that there was good in all people. Maybe I need to look at her differently to see past the darkness. But when I think of her, I wander with my arms outstretched, feeling for something. There is nothing there. I brace myself for a fall, like you would do in actual darkness, but it never comes.
Her mother used to say, “There’s no telling what she’ll do. I have always feared opening the door to her, and looking down the barrel of a gun. There’s just no telling.”
Now as I feel in the darkness, I wait for that barrel, that fall. She is like the tide. She will return.
This is an entry into Blogging for Books at The Zero Boss and is crossposted at Troll Baby.
~ Karen
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December 6th, 2006 at 3:05 pm
I am so sorry.
Listen, you don’t have to let her off the hook. You don’t.
Even if you manage to purge the anger from your own heart with forgiveness, she doesn’t deserve to hear it.
December 7th, 2006 at 10:53 am
I forgave my abusive stepmother a long time ago. I did it for me.
I could have let the anger and resentment eat me up inside.
The thing is, she does not know. It s possible she didn t even know she needed forgiveness.
She isn t in my life. I don t need to invite that insanity in, because she hasn t changed, she never will.
Forgiveness doesn t change the person you are forgiving, it changes you.
Peace to you Karen.
December 12th, 2006 at 1:50 am
I still dream about my mother. Sometimes about the past, sometimes she’s part of my present - even though she s dead many years. Funny - but she s never nice to me - not even in my dreams. My mind just cannot conceive of her speaking kindly to me; in my dreams she always criticizes, always belittles. I wake up feeling empty and unsatisfied. So I understand how you feel. We all understand mores the pity. I wish I could be like Becky and forgive but I cannot. I might have been able to, had she ever expressed one iota of regret but she never did. She cursed me right up till the end. So I get it, honey. I understand why you wait for your mother to return with darkness. Demons always ride the night.
January 4th, 2007 at 3:30 pm
Karen, I’m so glad you were recognized for this. Well done.