When no one is with me, I’m always alone. I was always alone. Not really, but inside of myself, I was definitely alone. You know how it is when you can be in a crowd of people and you still feel isolated. I was, and still am to some extent, alone in a crowd. The crowd has changed, the time has changed, though still, alone. A single island in a group of them.
When I was young and carefree, as a teenager, I wrote this poem. Well, it was more of a thoughtful process than a poem.
What do you do in a Family Trio?
With a mother and father and a young daughter?
Do you love one more than the other?
Or do you love them both the same?
I submitted it in a project in my English class at school and my teacher loved it. She said it was deep and thoughtful. I guess she didn’t realise I was really crying out for help.
You see, my parents both loved me. Of that I was certain. That they loved each other? I wasn’t quite certain of that. My father had a terrible temper and when it came to my mother, he lashed out physically. He would confide in me little things that even today I cannot say. Suffice to say he loved me a little too much for both our good. My mother, on the other hand seemed not to love me nearly as much. She would not confide in me the trouble she was having with my father. She seemed not to want to tell me. In later years, when I asked, she told me it wasn’t my business. That may have been the case, but I was still a part of this family and I needed to know what the problem was. In hindsight, I feel as though I were the parent expected to bring resolution to conflict that had occurred before, during and after the events that took place. Yet I was only me.
When I was 14, my father was sent to gaol for his part in the affair with me – in between my mother and I. It was not so easy. I still loved him. He was and still is my hero. I do not hate him. Didn’t then either. My mother and I clashed from an early age. We were like two cats wanting to claw each other. She tells me she wasn’t, that she loved me and still does, but that’s the way I see it. Arguing with our tongue lashings. I had my father’s temper. I made excuses, I suppose, for why I was the way I was. I had few friends and those I did have, I seemed to alienate me. Or perhaps it was that I alienated them from me. I don’t know. Friendship does not come easily to me, even now. Oh yes, I am popular, though not with real friends.
So here I am, the tables have turned. I am in a situation where I can control what happens to him, yet my love for him overtakes the hatred I never felt. It overwhelms me and makes me feel somewhere in between loved and blessed. I am still here, still the one alone. Yet so is he. He who once was the popular one, is now alone, like me. I suppose God is watching us from a distance to see who can last the longest.
I do know that I will live to 100. He, on the other hand, will live to the time he says no more. I have the happiness he longs for. He is there, yet not. My mother has moved on, for which I am truly grateful. Yet even now, she tries to make it up to me. She cannot, for all I want is her love. Nothing more, nothing less. That is all.
Check out Amie’s website for her writing, she explains her website as if its another realm in which you can read stories from past lives, future times and even before time itself.
Thank you to Amie for joining me on my blog today and sharing those personal experiences that I know can be difficult at times to write down and post publicly. I am sure will resound with readers and so let that be something you take away from the experience.
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