Dream Delayed Part 1
Since I was a very small girl I have dreamed of a house.A house chock full of treasures that I would idly rummage through.Here I would find a cupboard full of quilts,beautiful elbow length teal leather gloves with smoked topaz stones frolicking up the wrist.A china cabinet holding only crystal that sparkled as I examine it in the light that filters through the lace paneled windows.Lots of books and one of a kind oddities ,a black and cream colored hound striking a regal pose with a beautiful ring about the neck serving as a collar. When I was little I would try to go back to sleep to explore the houses contents some more.
Another fact about this house it was abandoned.I don't know how exactly I knew this but always felt like I should shout Eureka when I realized "It is, The House,dream.
Ironically,in reality I have walked away from two houses leaving the contents short of clothes for myself and my two children.The first time eight and a half years into a situation my mother came to get me with the ruse of needing my help setting up
her household after a move.My mother the polar opposite of myself was a woman you did not easily
Say no to. He,my abusive husband,was unable to refuse her and all I had to do was watch the negotiations.Mom,I am to old to do this on my own and I have not seen my daughter in over three years.He,what are you thinking a week?My mom,oh no it will take at least two to get everything sorted out.I was living in Tennessee,Fayetteville to be precise and my job was on strike that they thought would drag on at least a month.Now mind you everything in that house except the wood stove that was used for heat was brought to me by my sister who my husband
referred to as the rich b**ch . She is neither.
His problem with her is that she loved me .When She came to see me and saw I washed clothes by hand the next visit she brought a washer and dryer
and a husband who could do electrical work.An old ratty sofa, next visit a livingroom suite.Every visit she improved
the houses contents.Always nice stuff,free for the
taking and a reminder he was not even pretending to try. He worked he just found other outlets for his money.He also demanded my pay.
When I called my moms intervention a ruse I am not exaggerating.From the minute we pulled
away she declared "your not going back,I am not going to stand by till he kills you.When I got to her house everything was in place,nothing to do but
the intervention.Clan called in intervention .
Copyright © Vickey Rhymer | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment