Punished
by Silence
When we realize there may only be one life, we regrettably have heartaches… how many times have I tried to open up to you’ only to be thought of as weak for showing emotion? I guess it’s a fatal characteristic flaw. My mother many times’ was too drunk to comprehend my needs. She found no enjoyment in raising a child. She filled my mind with imaginations and fantasy~ that she created. My impressionable mind cannot understand why she continued to drink the liquid that made her fall down. There were many hours I sat alone- beside her’ in the quietness of late morning to early afternoon. I would talk to myself and hope she would get better soon. She never got better.
There were times when my mother
would be happy, they were so very few. So
I wonder why should allow myself to feel Guilt because women now treat me with
the same silence? I guess in those
many mornings alone with mother lying on the hallway floor, I would blame myself
for being such a bad child. No
matter how many times I poured her liquid down the drain and listened to her
anger until’ she dragged me to the liquor store for another bottle.
She was pleasant to the liquor man.
He offered her something that made her happy, but the happiness always
faded after a few. She would cry and tell me how sorry she was for not spending
more time getting to know me. She
was proud I could make decisions for myself, and I did not need to depend on
her. And she would walk away and go
to her room.
I would come to her room and see
her holding the crystal glass of fiery red liquid.
She would pull out her jewelry box to show me the many different rings
and gifts from men of long ago. She was not happy with men in general, but she
appreciated little boys. I believe
I was her favorite child~ for I spent all my time with her.
My other brother was in school, so I had mommy to do things with all day.
I remember the terrifying dream through my eyes; my mother was swallowed up by
some great mass coming out of the fireplace as I stood on the steps. I remember
waking and screaming. Even after my
mother had held me tightly, I still screamed!!! i wondered if she understood the
words of my dream’ more than I did? She told me to be careful of staring at
the sun because it would burn my eyes. I
remember trying to stare at the sun that Grey cloudy morning.
Sometimes there are things we
should not have to witness. As
children we do not have the choice of speaking our mind.
And I rarely spoke my mind against my mother for her anger was wrathful.
I can remember a time she forced me down and made me eat a bar of soap.
It was my punishment for cursing her for drinking.
I was too young to understand she needed love. She had lost hope in the goodness of mankind.
She had created her own universe and would play “those where the days
my friend” A’ song about a woman trapped in her addiction.
I realize today she was unable to get honest with her self; and instead,
chose to believe the lies she had created.
If my love could not save her, then by what chance do I Have of Saving
another…
Thomas A. SUTOR
P.O. Box 2343
Lompoc CA 93438
Rockhawk.com
