She probably can not remember and I know I can never forget … the first time I saw her like that I was only nine years old-not naive by any stretch having seen my share of tragedy-my parent's bitter battles in my first Five years of life then the inevitable end of their marriage but not before 700 days of devastation called death that destroyed dreams and deeply damaged hearts I had no idea life could get worse …
But it did –
The day I found her passed out cold on the living room floor I thought she was sleeping at first In fact I swore she was just sound sleep to my petrified little sister who big brown eyes screamed with fear at the site of the lifeless body of our Mommy slobber dribbling out of the corner of her mouth soaking her cheek below the dirt of her eye makeup that trickled down her sallow skin on a face devoid of any expression …
Is mommy dead? A little voice whimpered my sister cried
My gut said Yeah she's dead as a doornail
Thankfully my words said No No she's not dead as I killed my trembling, tiny sibling upstairs and tucked her in bed with my promise that Mommy would wake up in the morning … as I wonder what if she did not?
Little did I know I would wonder again and again for the next 20 years who I would see when I came home from school … my real mom – you know her-the sober, sophisticated lady -or would I find that ugly, evil Spirit lurking within my mommy's body again?
I loved that demon who called me nasty names and did not cook dinner or do laundry I wanted to murder the monster that grew at me slurring words, throwing things and staggering through our house …
So confused, embarrassed, shocked, and dazed by how my mommy would really be two people
But I learned early –
Never ask questions … about anything at all Never tell … anyone – not a soul Never complain about the awful monster for fear that would take my real mommy away forever Never trust anyone or even my tomorrows … since nobody ever Knew if the evil demon would be back Never feel anything … because it was easier to become completely numb than to end the endless pain and loss day after day …
When I got older, I thought I could deal better but looking back now I know I was wrong … It did not get easier, I just became paralyzed behind the protective wall I built to be safe from her …
Nobody ever met the first boy I went on a date with either parent even knew his name much less what kind of car I hopped into or where we were supposed to be going … Because my dad was not around and she was drunk and I was ashamed, so I stood by the front door waiting for Tommy's car to come down my street and as soon as I saw it, I barged out the door crossed across the front porch, skipped the steps, barely letting my feet touch the curve Before I bounced into his Chevy with my gleaming smile that everyone knew me for –
The radiant face with the perpetually smiling smile that I faked so often, it almost felt real … My cheerful face created to disguise my actual agony and untold twisted torture
Today at 30 years-old, I have perfected my mysterious mask as I cower behind my forced, dazzling smile and feigned nature of blissful peace and normalcy
Nobody ever gets even a glimpse of the real me – tormented by childhood memories tossing and turning in my bed every night, haunted by frantic flashes of bad dreams, reeling in faithless feelings, lingering self-doubt, desolate disbelief, hopelessly
Searching … for explanations, answers to my questions that have not changed in 20 years …
But anything close to understanding seems to escape my emotional grant eternally eluding my ravished, raging mind and sense of reason and logic …
I surrendered myself to a continual, compulsive scramble through a menacing maze of misconceptions that I perpetuate with my naive expectations for a miracle to magically reveal a meaningfulful response to my endlessly, impossible questions …
If I could just find … A solitary reason why my mother has continued to choose alcohol over me for more than 25 years … Or a single clue to explain how I can compete for her love when my opponent is a lifeless, speechless , Emotionless loyal bottle of vodka …