Sometimes I try to wrap my head around the fact that you spit vitriol venom on the daily on my young impressionable mind, and that shit sticks in the deep recesses of my thoughts, but Mom’s openness far outweighs a larger percentage of my sense of self. Words of hate I don’t use nor want to use or to write, so I won’t.
That was your beef.
Although that one fight when you said you hated Mom’s People (The Syrians) and were proud to be Aryan!, but straight up ? I think there was not just German but Jewish in your heritage….but I’ll never know, now.
I can respect your decision to break the cycle of violence that you and your brother suffered from your Dad & Step Mom but why was it so hard to go full circle ? Why when my brother picked on me did you feel the need to join in ? To fuel the flame ?
Those bizarre needs to pretend to throw me into a creek or over a bridge, that personal derision of constantly calling me “Little Shirl” ? I sometimes wonder why the hell you and Mom married in the first place or why divorce as opposed to death was never on the table.
When on Mom’s burial day, I grew weak in the knees and you approached me with a comfort hug and I PUSHED you away.
There was a lot of distrust and anger prior to February 7th, 2002. After that day, I tried my damndest to put up steel wall’s but at best they were only aluminum.
And the distance grew at great lengths.
But there was resolve. And now you’re but a memory. The depression is there minus the anxiety, but my mind is clear. Far more clear than the dark cloud that loomed from 2002-2010.
This is just another day.
Yet, a more peaceful day…