if I had one wish, right here, tonight, I don’t know what I’d want.
Staying up till 5 am is my new normal. that’s quite a few 11:11 PMs that have drifted away right in front of me. I guess I think about my day.
I’m thinking about you, mom. I’m thinking about my love for you that runs so deep. I’m thinking about my memories of you, how you planted that glowing seed of how to love inside my head since I was an infant through your own love and affection for me. That sunflower is blooming quite wonderfully now. I know you deserve and have been so starved of so much love and respect. And I know when you’re gone that I will find you in the meadows soaring with the butterflies.
But, you know what I also remember? One of the worst times you screamed at me. you forced me to sit down and I just couldn’t understand basic math so you tried to pull me from my seat and I held on so hard that you gave up on trying to pry me from it. maybe that why I’m mortified to pretend I know what math is and why I tremble when a math teacher forces me to answer a math question. Maybe that’s why I almost cried when a teacher was constantly screaming at kids over trivial things in my class in highschool. All you did was yell, and with five kids who could really blame you?
I don’t think you’re abusive, honestly. All parents make mistakes.
I remember when you divorced my dad. That probably shouldn’t count as a parental mistake, though. I remember the day you called me stupid and delusional when you had your melt down. I also remember standing by you before the day you lost it. And after. I remember when you woud scream and cry and hit things. Throw things. And you would scream about how much you hate yourself and how much you wished you were dead. I remember seeing the aftermath of the slits you gave your wrists.
and then, I let you move in with me. you really had nowhere else to go. There was nowhere that would allow you to have your kids at least part of the time. So, this place has helped you. And then I woke up to the sound of you crying yesterday.
I’ve been listening to this album, Mom.
This rapper was abused by his mom’s boyfriend, and then his mom died of drug overdose. he wrote this song and I know I shared it with you. a part of it goes like this:
“You know how intoxicated people make us nervous?
To the point sometimes we shake and it feels so disturbin’
Don’t be scared, that’s just trauma tryna reach the surface
And tell us everyone we love is gonna try to hurt us
Which isn’t true, but it’s a lie that both of us believe in
Yeah, you might get a glimpse of happiness from your achievements
But what you’ll learn as you get older, every time you reach one
Is you’ll just make another goal that doesn’t lead to freedom”
See, Nate and I are the same, mom. Except it’s not intoxicated people that make me nervous.
You screamed that you wanted to die again. I knew what to do this time to bring you peace at least. Before I calmed you, you stormed outside, so I knew it was safe to tremble and cry. Maybe that’s my trauma trying to reach the surface. And no, I’m not trying to compare your emotions hurting me to the severity of being beaten. I know you feel this rapper’s trauma more than I do. But, I almost lost you four times. And, those are the only times I know about. So, I think I have an excuse to cry for the old versions of me that you damaged.
so, I guess if I had one wish, I would be able to bring you joy again. I would buy you a big house with bedrooms for all your kids. I would wish for only good things to come your way from this point on. I would provide for you, so you could just be happy longer.
I wish you felt loved.
~A.F.
Feeling Drives Work 