She came to me this evening (again), feeling really small and discouraged because she hasn't found a job yet. As usual, I did everything I could to try to make her feel better about the situation, including helping her apply online for a couple more positions and offering her a drink, which quickly turned into three or four.
Obviously I am not going to get Momma drunk without having a few shots myself.
It was a good visit, one of those where I felt a connection with my Momma and actually believed she might be hearing what I had to say. Of course, it is the "good" visits with Momma that leave me feeling so drained!
There are a few topics considered extremely dangerous for the two of us to discuss, not the least of which being my sophomore year in high school. That was the year I left home. It was also the year I lost my virginity to a child molester.
Tonight we ended up on that topic.
I commented on an alert I had received about a sex offender moving into the area. It was a sex offender I knew, because his sister was a very good friend of mine. He had raped her repeatedly, violently, for years. Their mother knew, and did nothing. They were utterly worthless human beings. Not the girl, nope, she had some golden in her. She just needed somebody to love her.
Momma told me that she was completely ashamed and humiliated to be at all involved with those people during the search for us and that she was mad as hell I had put her in the situation to where she was in any way involved with them. I apologized, again, for fucking everything up for everyone.
"Well you know Momma, when I left for school that day I had every intention of coming back, did you know that? Did you know her mom had taken her to the jail and made her apologize to that son of a bitch for ruining his life. We skipped school and then she got freaked out and refused to go home. I wasn't going to leave her there by herself. Yea, I was planning on leaving anyway, but not until my birthday and I was going to tell you first. I sorry you had to be around those people.
I spent a week in those woods. It was one of the coldest, snowiest winters on record around here. Momma said she remembered her neighbor bringing her some vegetable soup because she didn't know where her kid was and it was about to snow.
*Laugh* "Damn, I would've loved some of that soup! I was busy trying to warm up crackers and cheese over a candle and burning my biology notes to stay warm."
Three weeks before my 16th birthday I left my house to go to school. I have spent one night in that house since then. It was a year and a half before Momma spoke to me and then it was only because she had to.
"You know Momma, he never knew where I was either. My leaving had nothing to do with him."
She reminded me that I had seemed as though I didn't believe it or just didn't care, a week or so before I left, when she and daddy told me what my boyfriend had done to a little girl.
I wonder if she heard me tonight when I told her that no, I knew as soon as they told me that it was true. It had explained so much of what I had believed to be so wrong. I wonder if she heard me say that I remembered her laughing, mocking, asking me how stupid I could be. I wonder if she realizes how small that made me feel.
I wonder if she questions how her 15-year-old daughter could mistake being fucked by a 19-year-old, who didn't understand the word "No" and had in fact had molested a 6-year-old little girl, for love and somehow even be grateful for that "love".
I wonder if she'll ever be the one to apologize. And I wonder how much it would really matter if she did.