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March 2, 2000
Where did it all begin to go wrong? It is a question I’ve asked myself a million times. Have we always been this way or was it an event that happened some where along our journey? At times I demonize her and say she never really loved me and merely tolerated me has her child. At other times I see the split as happening much later in my life. In reality I believe it all began when I was 8 and walked into the garage and found my mom smoking using a plastic butter dish as an ash tray. All my life I remember her telling me how she had promised my sister never to smoke again before I was ever born. When I walked into the garage that day I realized my mother was not perfect. She lied to us about smoking, she broke a promise, and she didn’t even care. Since that moment I have been trying to keep up with her, chasing after the woman I thought I knew in search of a mother I think I want. |
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March 4, 2000
Right now I suppose I am in a good mood because I am remembering her as a saint. She was so tall and beautiful and she was my mom. She baby sat all the kids and we played at my house with my mom. We’d often argue over whose older sibling could beat who up and whose father was tougher, but when it came to mom’s mine was the best. She knew how to make clay and we could make our own colors. She was a great artist and could help us all draw our fantasies. I remember dressing up in the cowboy boots she tucked away in the back of her closet and looking at myself in the mirror wishing to one day grow up and be as beautiful as my mother. I’d put on her clothes and pretend to be a fashion model. I even loved the way she cut my bangs crooked because I squirmed to much. It was my dream to grow-up and be nothing more than her. Oh God how’s that’s changed. |
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