Unspoken
Thoughts about my mother
Last night I was jotting down some notes for a chapter in Misfit about my mother. The words took on the shape of an abstract poem. I thought I would share them here…
In early memories, we were siblings, friends…
In my mind, equals.
But I never truly felt young—
My thoughts moved in adult ways,
Too early, too heavy.
Hard to explain. Harder to be.
We spent long hours together.
My father, rarely home.
And when he was,
The air turned sharp,
A storm looking for something to fix—
Or someone to punish.
My room became a minefield:
Inspections, corrections,
Terror in the silence before his footsteps.
You never asked me to do things,
No, your focus was on telling me what not to do…
Trust anyone,
Get married,
Have children.
And then—
The night you told me you tried to smother me,
A pillow pressed to my crying face,
Your voice flat with memory.
I didn’t understand.
Only that I was unwanted.
Still, I loved you,
In a tangled, aching way.
Did you love me?
I never knew.
You left your body when I was nine,
Illness stealing the days we once shared.
I became your nurse.
Too small for the burden.
Too proud to refuse it.
You left your soul when I was twenty-five.
Our last goodbye—
You couldn’t meet my eyes.
You knew it was the end.
So did I.
Were you sad?
Did you feel the pain of separation?
Did you feel anything for me?
I like to think you did.
You are free now.
No more torture, no more pain.
As I get older, I feel for you,
I almost understand you.
Would it have been different?
If sickness hadn’t stolen so much?
What shape would our lives have taken,
If time had been kinder?
Would you love me?
All I have are questions,
And sometimes, if I sit quietly, they are answered.
Is it you or my own rational thinking?
Another question.
You are long gone,
Yet still with me, every day.
Never forgotten.
I carry you like a shadow stitched to my skin,
Both wound and compass,
A question without an answer,
A love without a home.
And though I walk forward,
Your absence walks with me—
A silence that shapes the sound of my life.
Thank you so much Jayne:) I do hope my book will serve as some kind of inspiration for others. It continues to be an interesting and thought provoking journey piecing it all together. I think the greatest gift its creation has given me is forgiveness and a degree of understanding.
Heart breaking, beautiful & terrible & sad in what the child went through, but also brave in that the child was up to the task even if it was in fact a heavy burden for anyone much less a child.
Thank you for sharing this with us Lee, I am looking forward to the release of your memoir, any idea when approximately that will be?