My mom bought me a chair that looked exactly like hers because I liked it so much. Unfortunately, it smelled like laquer so she swapped her chair with mine and I got her old chair and she got my new chair. They are exactly the same. She didn’t mind the laquer smell. She knew I was sensitive to chemicals and wanted me to have the chair I liked.
When we moved in to our new house and throughout the years she has made little additions. She gave me her quilt which was always my favorite. She knew it, so she gave it to me. She bought curtains. In the reflection you can even see the chandelier she bought for us. Then the cute little mirror with hooks that hangs on the wall at the front door.
I also have our bench. It was the bench that used to sit in my old living room growing up. I’m not sure how it ended up at my house but it did. I lay down on it every night. Jessy used to lay right beneath it on his bed (my dog) and I’d rest my hand on him as I watched a movie. This bench has seen it all.
I wonder, if this bench could talk, what it would say about my mother and her life and how mine was intertwined. It sat through my parents divorce, my abuse, my first boyfriends, and even my husband. Now it sits in my house with the other things that remind me of my mother.
My mother is still alive. She still exists on this earth. Yet she doesn’t speak to me and with her old words I guess I wouldn’t want her to. I wonder, still, is she capable of change, is she capable of seeing ME. I could easily remove everything that even reminded me of her from my house like I sent back all of our chlldhood photos. All of the things that I took pictures of and posted here. I’ve learned though, that you can remove everything, physical and tangible, but the heart remembers.
My heart hurts for what it knows it will never receive from her or my brothers.
I thought getting out more would help. I thought driving again, having new life experiences, going out to get dinner with my husband, would help. I thought I would feel better about the loss of my body, my family, my life as it was, my health, my dog,if I just was more active, but I don’t.
Apparently, staying busy doesn’t heal the heart. I’m not sure what will.