Whisper Me This

by Kerry Anne King

Whatever was in that syringe, I want some. Only, of course, I have to go on being responsible

Apart from being a mother to Elle, I’ve been skimming the surface of the Life Pool. And now my skimmer has been confiscated. I don’t have a life jacket. I’m being dunked unceremoniously into the deep end, and I sure as certain had better learn how to swim.

We need food and shelter first, before we need anything else, because without those things we will die. Then we need people to love. Once we have people to love, then we can learn to love ourselves and start working toward the things we are good at, the things that make us happy.”

Isn’t that why I’ve always hated myself? Other people protecting me from what they think I shouldn’t see or know?

“Does he hit the children?” And she answered, “No. I’ve taught them how to keep from being hit.” Those were the words that took my breath as surely as a punch to my gut.

I can see why she pushed me so hard to be better, to do more, why nothing I did was ever enough for her. She needed me to make up for Marley, to be enough for two girls even though I was only one.

I would have run off with the papers, made up a lie. Protected my daughter as long as I could. But it’s too late for any of that now, so I let her read the papers.

It wasn’t the blow that did the damage. It was the way he dismissed her, demeaned her, discounted her.

“We’ve managed not to talk about it for, what, twenty-seven years? Seems like there should be a statute of limitations on certain topics of conversation.”

Love for her daughters gave Mom the strength to break free from indoctrination and violence, to create a reality in which her daughters and her granddaughter stand free and independent today at her graveside.