Recollections: and the Lessons Learned

“Don’t worry mom,” I said with as much confidence as a young boy could muster, “I’ll collect money from my paper route ok, don’t worry mom, don’t worry!” I hated to see my mother cry, tears streaming between fingers like water through cracks in a dam about to burst, hands prematurely worn and aged by diligent housewife duties and too much stress. I detested seeing my younger brothers and sisters go hungry because of my drunken father’s neglect for those he claimed to love. It’s no wonder mom lost her mind after all she experienced; the beatings by my father, seeing her children without food more often than they deserved and the man she once loved preferring the company and affection of another woman. It wasn’t long before mom retreated into a world that only she and a few pharmaceutically liberal Psychiatrists knew of. I’d like to think that my siblings and I are stronger for having endured those trials, I mean, after all we are still alive, and who knows but God, why my father self destructed like that. In the end he said he was sorry and that he loved us. As for my mother? well, there are only so many pills and shock treatments a human can stand. Rest well sweet Mother and Father. I’ve learned a lot about-forgiveness.