|
several years of silence have passed between me and my family
when my youngest brother visits me in Chicago to reconnect
my mother never tries—finally I write her to reestablish contact
taking upon myself any blame for years of silence—she answers
and for some time a few letters go back and forth
during this time the incest memory surfaces our first meeting after many years takes place on the day
before my son's wedding in a hotel—I don't mention incest it takes a few months to write her a letter
I describe my childhood and tell her about the incest
and express that my intention is not to blame
but to share the truth and create honesty between us
the honesty and openness I need to live at first she believes me because, as she writes, she knows
that I do not lie and do not want to harm her
I don't dare to think—marred by suspicions—
that for the first time in my life I feel a mother at my side when I ask her to support me when I tell my brothers and sisters
my suspicions are confirmed—the door that seemed opened
closes—now she accuses me of lying but I inform my brothers and sisters and receive
a furious letter from my mother
full of judgmental accusations, condemnations
and empty sayings like—talking is silver, silence is gold with all her might she has now slammed the door shut
I meet her one more time at a family function the following year
where my mother wants to speak with me
we talk for a few moments—and she informs me
that I misunderstood her
she does not intend to break off our relationship I am true to my Self for the first time in my life as I ask her
what kind of relationship can we have if I must deny the truth? once more her answer is—and remains—silence the child inside suffers greatly
abandoned by her mother for the very last time
she falls into the abyss of betrayal
she writhes in agony
she does not want to say goodbye
she still clings to her illusions
she longs for a mother
she can't let go of her hope to build love with her mother
she believes that
forgiveness
will give her the mother she has always longed for I hold and comfort her while she screams
for a long time
from excruciating pain
why is my mother not with me—by my side?
carrying her in my arms I walk away
into the freedom of living in truth © Barbara Rogers
go to: the curse of silence painful layers of silence unbearable silence
back to table of contents
Screams from Childhood
|
