What You Still Refuse To Hear

I've been labeled the black sheep, the liar. Everyone knew I wasn't lying. It was much less messy to blame the child than to stop the pain. It had to be a lie. But it wasn't a lie. It was the truth, every time I told you, and it never stopped. You could have stopped it!

I was a child of three and I needed you. He said we were picking flowers. You knew it was a lie. We didn't bring any flowers home. I was a child of eight and I broke from the perversion. Crying and screaming, but he swore I was troubled, a liar. I was a child of thirteen with severe bladder and yeast infections. It was just puberty, right? I was a young lady of fifteen pregnant with her father's child. It had to have happened at school because she never left the house. You wanted a name and were mad because you didn't like the one I gave you.

I was the girl they picked on. The girl who told horrible lies on her daddy. The girl all the parents told their kids to stay away from. The one all the boys thought would be easy. After all, she fucks her daddy! Why was he such a great guy? There's no possibility it could be true. He was an alcoholic, no one had a problem giving him that label. Were they afraid of him? I was a pregnant fifteen-year-old girl that tried to kill herself. I almost succeeded, I didn't count on throwing up. I came back stronger and promised him death if he touched me again. I was relieved I lost the baby.

I was mad at you for a long time. Until I grew up and made my own mistakes. Until I listened to your stories. A brother who sexually abused you. A mother who whipped you for telling on him. A loveless marriage. A family who disowned you for marrying him. Afraid to leave because you couldn't make it on your own? Or because he told you he would kill you if you took his girls away from him.

Now you're nearing eighty. And you continue to keep the secret. He's dead. He died calling me a liar. None of his children had anything to do with him, why? It doesn't matter anymore, one refuses to speak of it and the other two are liars, right? So, Why ask?

Now, I know why you couldn't believe me. The truth was too painful, it would have taken you under. Your mind couldn't handle it. Now I see a woman who lived a sad, cold life. Covering up for a pedophile. Sacrificing your daughters because that's what you were taught to do. And in doing so you taught your daughters to do the same. Women are not to speak back. You work and take care of the house, the kids, and even the yard. He does as he damned well pleases.

I'm trying my hardest to break these chains. I made some bad mistakes. Bad enough my middle child will never forgive me. But I'm owning up to my mistakes and doing the best I can to deal with them. They almost took me down. I tried to kill myself again. But I see you can't face it, you're still not strong enough. I'm going to try my best to show you the love you never knew. So, you won't leave this world having never been truly loved by anyone. It's not easy, you are still pushing me away. But, I see the faraway stare. The loneliness you cling to. I recognize the shield you wear to keep people at bay. I wear it too. You taught me well.

I won't tell you again. I won't make you see. I will let you forget it if you can. I want to see the pain in your eyes, diminish and fade. Maybe before it's over you can love me like you once did. Before he built this wall between us. I love you, mom. Happy Mothers Day!