A daily confession
My mother in the house I grew up was a very happy and
bright memory. Warm and loving. I remember it always
sunny. I remember my mother sitting at the dinning table
reading a book and smoking a cigarette. How she would sit
outside and I would hug her or how I would sit on her lap.
I remember her laughter when she would find me standing in
the kitchen playing with the running water for hours.
Everything was wet and she would always laugh and say that
I'm a waterrat.
She was never mad at such stuff. I got scolded by her for
other things but she never scared me or hit me. Never
ever. One time I pulled the cats tail again and again and
again and again. I don't know why I did it but I remember
my mother rushing halfway down the steps telling me to
stop and that the cat is screaming because I'm hurting it.
she told me it is like when someone would pull my hair
again and again. That's it. I stopped. And I never did it
again. I always remembered my mother standing on the steps
saying that the cat is hurting and it was so logical to me
that you cannot pull a cats tail.
One of the most beautiful and warm memories I have is when
one day in the summer holiday when I was five or so E a
friend fom the neighbourhood kame and woke me up very
gently. I looked and I was so surprised to see her instead
of my mom. I asked her and she said that my mom is in the
kitchen and that she allowed her to wake me as a surprise.
I got up and dressed and kissed my mother in the sunfilled
kitchen and E and I went to play the whole day.
After she left it became dark and cold. When I think back
I always remember the weather as rainy. The house became
ominous and sad. Sometimes I thought I could hear the
house cry. I didn't like going home. It was a place full
of traps. I said one wrong word or did one wrong step, it
could turn from threatening to very dangerous or just
impossibly sad and hurting.
I remember when I was 14 or 15 that I told a friend that
when my father would hit it didn't bother me that much
because I knew he would hit and it would be over. But when
he did not hit I never knew what I was in for, and that
was much worse.