Shared Memories

Isn’t it funny how much a memory can be different depending on who tells the story. Our perceptions of the same even are so different. I wish I were typing to say someone recollection of a memory doesn’t have a hold on me. Longing to post about how I have moved on from those holds my past still has on me.

This week a memory was shared of a run my mom had done on her own. My mom had asked me to be there for her before I got myself wrapped up into trouble. ( Trouble I might add I hands down didn’t do!) My mother would be running a marathon in Little Rock. I vowed to take my preteen daughter and be there to cheer her on. Problem was I got into that trouble. I was on probation now… Unable to leave the state.

I had a good job. Tons of hours. Just got new place. Left the douchebags that had got me into the trouble. On probation but I had cut a deal I had 3 months left just don’t get in trouble and I would have everything wiped from my record. Clean slate. Even had all the fines and court cost paid off completely. With 7 kids can you imagine how hard that had been to do in 3 months time. But I had. Proud of myself was an understatement. The court case had a no contact order keeping all the douches away. It was my time to shine. But….. My mom needed me. She just needed me. She didn’t have her husband. My brother, I love him but even going he would not support her how she needed I knew that. After all I had done this before and knew what she would need.

So here it is. Decision time. Do you break probation and be there for you mom? Make sure she doesn’t lose any money by you backing out? Or stay safe and get yourself out of trouble? Keep climbing that mountain you have been heading up?

Of course I chose her. I wish I had thought of my wedding day when I just knew she would come and I paced the window praying my mother would be there…. Never was she to arrive. Had the memory of being homeless and her knowing and leaving me there to riot in the sexual abuse that was happening entered my head would I have stayed and not been there for her? If I had thought to the time where the police were at the windows and doors me alone for the third day at 12 years old hiding under her bed praying not to get caught would my choice have been different? No. It wouldn’t.

The car ride to the marathon my mom was to run and me support. She yelled and punched herself in the face and head. She got angry many many times. Money was a constant worry for her on the trip and it really didn’t matter how much I paid for nothing eased that tension. My daughter cried asking what was wrong with nana. She heard her cursing for what was probably one of the first times in her life.

I can’t remember any enjoyment from the trip. My little brother never showed to the race. Was late to even get there for us to leave. I’m sure you can imagine the reaction from my mom….. I got back pulling into the driveway of my home. From this nightmare trip to be arrested. Two more nights in jail and $900 more in fines because I chose to be there. The record now still there that would have been wiped had I chose to not be at her side. The record keeps me from gaining employment often.

Seeing her share this memory asking my child if she remembers. I wonder does she remember? Cause it’s the trip her granddaughter saw her in a different light. It’s the one that she seen a glimpse into just a tiny bit of what childhood was for me. I remember her asking me if nana was crazy…. The pain that trip put on me and even my little girl and yet my mom shares it as though it’s a fond memory for her.

She does the same with the wedding picture that I told her my grandfather was putting his hands into my panties. I wish I could erase every memory from my brain. It makes me sick when my pain is shared as their fondest moments. It’s crazy how perception is different on the same events.

 

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