No Connection

Twittering Tales #132 – 16 April 2019

Photo by Luis Quintero on

The dream recurred

Over and over, in which

I tried to call my mom but

Could never get through;

Problems with the line or

I had the number wrong;

She didn’t answer or

Couldn’t hear me.

Decades later I realized

The dream was telling me

She and I would never

Connect…it wasn’t

About the phone.

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.

The Christmas Tree

Prompt: “That really did not help.”

It’s burned in my memory

The last Christmas I spent

With mom, in her home.

She had an artificial tree

Which she assembled, but

She was too old, unstable

To climb up on step-stool…

I certainly didn’t want to be

Responsible if she fell…so

When it was time to put the

String of lights on, I stepped up.

I was a nervous wreck as soon

As she’d taken the tree from

The closet…we didn’t work well

Together.  I couldn’t ever get

Things right…as in perfect

To please her.

So I’m standing above, hands

Shaking as I wind the lights

Around…she’s supervising

Ready to pounce, criticize.

Some details of memory blur

But there’s sense-memory…

Feeling like I’m five, not 50-ish

And terrified of the ogre who is

Mom…a feeling which never

Changed, as long as she lived.

Terrified of what? Her quick-flicked

Anger, impatience, humiliations…

Ogre, and piranha.

Things proceeded tensely… I

Couldn’t glean her vision, nor

Follow her directions to get there.

My stress level climbed…images

Flew through my mind: of shoving

The tree over, and her… throwing

Myself through plate glass window

Where tree was always displayed.

Her voice rose…annoyance that

Her stupid daughter was incapable

Of simplest decorating task.

I wanted to suggest she call my

Sister, the daughter she preferred.

I wanted to sob like a baby, so

Hurt…and angry that she could

Still reduce me to quivering blob

Of useless human tissue, at my age.

I longed to ask, do you really

Think I can do a better job if

You keep hounding me?!!

But I said nothing…in my

Entire life, I doubt I’d spoken

True feelings to her a handful

Of times.  It wasn’t as much

That I’d been taught Respect

As certainty of punishing

Reply:  words that would

Decapitate my soul, leave it to

Bleed out…yet somehow

Maintain a pulse so I could

Relive pain for the rest of

My crippled, disfigured days.

I remained mute…somehow the

Tree got finished, whether or

Not to her full satisfaction.

I hate her, forgive her, hate her…

I didn’t attend her memorial

Service.  When I received copy

Of her Will, I wasn’t surprised

To be disinherited…numbed to her

Rejections… And, what I wanted

She never had.

I thought her death would grant

Me “closure”…(empty term).  But

“That really did not help.”

I can’t recall if I once loved her…

I only remember fearing her, and

Crying myself to sleep most of

My young life, heart shredded…

Needing her to love me.

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.


Untenable Questions

V.J.’s Weekly Challenge #39: Unanswerable

V.J. invites us to respond to her prompt “Unanswerable”.  Click the link above for more information.

I’m not bothered by what is

Unanswerable for some…such as, what

Follows when our life on Earth ends.

Faith satisfies me, removes all fear…

My true Home awaits in Heaven.

Faith doesn’t answer every question.

What wearies me, what I find

Unanswerable, is how people can do

Horrific, reprehensible evil to others…

In particular, to their own family, friends. 

Faith’s reply: “we live in Adam’s fallen world”.

It disgusts me that abusers offer their

Own past abuse as acceptable reason for

Scarring individuals known, or strangers.

Why do they deserve compassionate

Understanding…some special mercy?

Because my God metes out both mercy

And judgement…and, “His thoughts, ways

Are not as man’s”. (Isaiah 55:8)

I was abused, I didn’t become a serial killer

Or embark on path of any criminal activity.

What continues to stymie comprehension…

The aching unanswered questions in my life:

Why would my mother despise me?

How could my parents devalue me…

Accord me status of servant…rather than

Looking, and seeing a child…theirs…a gift?

I would have done anything for their

Love, but it did not exist.

The church teaches we must forgive

“Imperfect” parents because they have

Their own issues, baggage, wounds.

Response which embittered me: “they did

The best they knew how”.  Then, why

Wasn’t my best ever good enough for them?

Different standards, apparently.

I’m waiting to hear that I get a pass for

Remembering them with no affection.

For all of us, God’s grace requires not perfection.

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.

“For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways,” declares the LORD. Isaiah 55:8