My Mother’s Rock
As the terrifying wails of your wronged mother come through the phone, the pain paralyzes you. She is not the mother you know. How do I stop her from leaving me alone in this life. How do I look at my father that caused this pain.
Call 911. Help your mother. Be her rock as her life collapses.
The men arrived in their cars ready to take her away. To take her somewhere “safe”. The hospital. I was going to be with her. Stand strong and reassure her. In that small apartment living room the screams of fear and resentment from my mother overcame me. Every ounce of strength I held was swept away like the tide. I was nothing but a puddle of tears on hardwood floor. Pick yourself up. Your mother needs you. There is a long road ahead.
Psychiatric ward visitations filled with tears and detox pain show the need for change. The fluorescent lights shinning the way.
Arizona. I am her daughter, she needs help, and I will get it for her. Swift plane and car travels land us where she needs to be. She needs to be here in Arizona. Her cries while I left will never be forgotten, but the courage she showed in staying won’t be either.
As I am driven away in a perfectly black escalade, I surrender and pray. Pray that on the other side of this my mom is waiting.
(via themountainsechoedd)
