Monday, May 25, 2009

Nothing to do with Memorial Day

We went to my father’s apartment that day, with a hopeful excitement. My mother was happy. I hadn’t seen that for a very long time. What kid doesn’t want his or her parents back together? Was there really a possibility? I snuck looks at her, and at him. They looked happy. I felt happy. My brother and I exchanged smiles.

After dinner, as she was washing dishes, my father slid behind my mother and wrapped his arms around her waist. She turned and they kissed a long, deep drink of each other. They turned, a little embarrassed, to look at my brother and me, and we all acted like we were involved in something else.

As the evening moved forward, there was talk of them going to Reno together the next morning and whose house I would stay at while they were gone. My mother was excited to be able to make plans with him. It was so obvious that she still loved this man. The possibility of our lives falling back in place together was palpable. The laughter too loud maybe, the nervousness in the shadow of hope made us giddy.

At the end of the evening, my brother went to his room, me to the couch, and my mother and father to his bedroom. I could hear quiet talking between them. I slept content.

Next morning dawned with her still squeezed in beside him in the twin bed. They were both sitting up, smiling, when I went in, my father smoking a cigarette, and she with the sheet pulled up under her arms.

Maybe it was going to happen! Every kid’s dream would happen to me. We ate breakfast, the four of us, full of happy talk and laughter. “What time should we leave?” she asked with love still in her eyes. “Leave?” “For Reno. I’ll take Lisa to her friend’s house, and I can be ready in about an hour.”

“Oh honey. I can’t go. I have to work.”

I watched the life fall from my mother’s face. It drained down through her shoulders and out of her heart. She had trusted, again, and lost, again.

10 comments:

Heather said...

{ouch}

Lisa, this is beautifully written. A ripple effect of dissapointment takes place, in these hearts of love.

Unknown said...

Gee that is so sad, I felt hopeful too.

septembermom said...

You wrote this so beautifully. I could feel the hope in this piece. Love hurts in so many ways.

Anonymous said...

Very moving-- and sad... and so beautifully written.

Midlife, menopause, mistakes and random stuff... said...

How beautiful and heartfelt.......
You are just a lovely person :)

Steady On
Reggie Girl

Dan Felstead said...

Shabbygirl....
Seems like a post on PPP. It makes it more poignant knowing it is not fiction. As the others have said, it was beautifully written and you allowed us to feel the roller coaster rise and fall with you.

Dan

Cynthia L. H. said...

Ohhh! I am heartbroken with her. I am heartbroken with the children. Excellent writing. Capturing the pain on the page, cannot have been easy. But it is done so well....

Anonymous said...

What a beautifully written, hauntingly true, realistically sad, lovingly honest piece.

I was pulled into this post, the same way I am pulled into good novels.

A good novel is unforgettable.

shabby girl said...

I really appreciate the support I feel from each of you. Thanks for sticking around while I continue to purge!
xoxoxoxo

pam said...

I'm going to agree with everyone here, absolutely beautifully written.

Flora & Fauna

Books I have known & loved

  • Life of Pi
  • A Hundred Years of Solitude
  • Kite Runner
  • The Way the Crow Flies
  • Fall on Your Knees
  • Poisonwood Bible
  • East of Eden
  • Shantaram
  • I Know This Much is True

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