Wow, look what I found.
This was when I was 10 years old. My school picture from Chattanooga, Tennessee.
It was the year 1980.My mother had us approaching people on the corner and telling them to vote for Ronald Reagan. Uncle Ronnie, we called him.
We didn't live there very long, but I do remember getting enrolled for a few months in jazz/tap/gymnastics.
I fell off the balance beam and got a nosebleed, and my mom had to hitchhike to the gym to see if I was alright. (That was the end of my gymnastics career.)
She came right away, and checked me out, and told them I would be fine and she was taking me home.
We left the gym, and walked up the street. Meanwhile we were talking; I had a birthday coming up and she wanted to know what I wanted. I told her that I wanted a REAL watch. Small and silver, with hands and a wind-up dial. I remember the look of surprise on her face, like she was impressed. Then she hitched us a ride home.
I don't know HOW she did it, but she managed to buy (and pay dearly, I'm sure) a beautiful Timex. When I opened the box, I started crying. It was exactly what I dreamt of. It was a ladies' watch. It was silver and oval and it had a silver band. I was so proud of that watch. The band broke a few years later and it went into that bottomless pit called: "I'll keep it for you."
But I really loved that watch.
And I never completely knew how, but I always appreciated the effort it must've taken my mother to get that for me.
Most of you are going to think this is a sweet story, but there is much that is left unsaid.
March 23rd, 2003. My mother shot herself in the head with a .38 thus robbing us all of the opportunity to make peace with her.
I can't believe I've written something about my mother...
MsAmber
6 comments:
Damn. Sorry to hear that, Amber.
So this just happened fairly recently, then.
Hmm... I got the "robbing us all of the opportunity to make peace." part of it.
You're putting it out here because something in you wants to and needs to.Tell more if you feel comfortable, then.
It's poison to keep shit inside. Heh, literally. Come to think of it.If you keep shit inside, what, your kidney's shut down? Etc?
lol. So maybe this is poison you are trying to get out. Good for you.
We're all here for you.
xoxoLisa
Hi Amber,
You were such a beautiful lil' girl! Such pretty eyes. :-)
You know my thoughts on your Moms death... and such.. I'm just so glad you didnt let things in your lifetime ruin you... your a wonderful person! You took those trials and made yourself a better person from them... So nice to see.
Wow.
So you never got to make peace first, eh? I've always kind of speculated (don't ask me why) about how I'd feel if my mom died. She's the biggest pain, the thorn in my side. I don't talk to her very often any more, and when I do, I tend to get irritated. But I know that nothing's going to hurt worse than losing her.
Wow.... I had to read this post twice. What an amazing story and what a way to tell it!
You've really grown - as a person - from your experiences. Thanks for sharing.
Most of us are blogging because we need other people -not those close enough to hurt them- to hear our stories, get something off our chests, share our sadness, share our joy.
Your need to say something about your mother on your blog could be a catharsis in disguise.
Flubberwinkle has a good point. Wow, amazing post!
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