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Mother of God
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Mother of God  My Da’s mother was a witch of a woman, mean as a snake. She wore those old floral housecoats with snaps, cap sleeves, her flappy mottled arms crossed over her front, she’d stand in the door to the kitchen when we went to take care of Bubby, watching us. My sister said she was brown in her soul. I don’t know. I just know I hated her. She’d ask if we wanted orange soda, then laugh and say she didn’t have any, if we said yes, please. Who does that to ? Once when mama was bathing Bubby, she took her teeth out, chased us until the sainted one screamed, then popped them back in. Nanny had taken to her bed. Da said it was because she was too mean to do anything. The room smelled something awful, like feet. Mama said we had to stay til she got back. Nanny had a picture on the mirror of a heart with thorns around it and it was bleeding. And under that a candle that was lit. And statues and a cross with dead Jesus. The room was like a nightmare. One day, mama had to take Bubby to the doctor. She left the Sainted One and me there to bring Nanny stuff if she needed stuff. We sat on the couch. I don’t think we breathed at first. It was forever. Then, we heard it. Like a ghost moaning thing. The sainted one and me, we got behind the couch, held onto each other and refused to hear it, we did not hear it. It got louder. There were times in my life when I wanted to be an only . This was one of them. I was little. I was not supposed to have to do this but the sainted one said we had to check, see if she was okay. She dragged me with her We edged towards the dark smelly room. We could see the candle flickering on the bleeding heart, our faces reflected in the mirror, Nanny’s too. The Sainted One, voice all wobbly asked if she needed anything. Like some terrible<b> twisted </font></b>THING, Nanny rose up, her hands searching reaching. I fell back, scrambling on the floor. This sound, this hollow deep sound from HELL, with the smell of death, reverberated through the room. “Take me now, blessed Mother………..” The sound of my sister’s scream, her retreating feet, me crawling faster than I had ever run. I peed myself. . We were a mess. But we were a fast mess. We were down the stairs and on the front lawn, holding on to each other, sobbing. My mama and the neighbor pulled up in front with Bubby at some point. He pulled us into his arms, while mama ran up to check. We looked after her, she was a GOD. Da was just coming down the street from work. Yeah, sure, now. Oh, Nanny was fine, laughing up a storm. Mama was not fine. She told Da she was D.O.N.E. and hoped Da could spell. He said he could spell just fine woman. It was awful quiet on the walk home. You cannot conceive the many without the one. |
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my Da's family was difficult. mostly as kids we spent time with mama's family. the cousins and aunts and uncles there were gentle. Da's side was rough. He had two brothers and a sister but it was always hard.....not a lot of love. and his sister was an alcoholic who made it worse. Da tried but he felt better with mama's family too and they loved him so much. they called him the pipe. You cannot conceive the many without the one.
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Sibling rivalry! I read an article that sibling rivalry resurfaces when parents die. That really chimed with me. I don't see my brother since my parents died. I would have vever thought that would have happened when my parents were alive but it did! The less-than-saintly fucker!  
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2/28/2017 1:04 pm |
I spent years trying to get mother-in-law to like me, then I finally realized she didn't like anybody!  
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I am the 4th of 8 kids.....Dad died in 2005 and Mom in 2009....to this day, we "all" still get along great and get together as much as possible! We we brought up in what I call a strict way but I feel it kept us all close!
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Oh hun I'm so sorry that's a terrible thing to have to deal with as a child. Seduce the mind and see what a wonderful adventure the body will take you on.. 
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Why is it that when some people have a shitty childhood they just have to pass it on to their kids. The odd thing is others do just the opposite and make excellent parents. Seems that none of it makes sense. Sounds like a really bad crap in your past. Your post reminded me that no brother or sister has the same parents. They are different for each child. If you see me in the real world, come say "Hi Justskin." I always behave. Preferably not well. 
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ty to a look into your family past. I grew up as a only child until my father remarried after my mother died and now I have a step sister. I left home for the Army before she was born so I didn't go through life like you did. Being an only child I felt I lost out on this sister or brothers being around. So sorry you had such a bad childhood and you had to live through this. hugsssssss V Become a blog watcher sweet_vm
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I have to admit I laughed though I'm sure it was not so funny then. Vive La Difference
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This one was about the evil in certain people's hearts, no matter how old they are. Ugh. kk The observant make the best lovers, I may not do right, but I do write, I have bliss, joy, and happiness in my life, Kitkat Come check out my blog KItkat1415 check out this post by me Adventures In Body Grooming #39 April Topic Link: What Lies Beneath If April Showers Oh Bloody Hell What Kind Of Weather Turns Me On Bloggers Symposium 40
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I have an older sister. Me and her grew apart from a very young age. She stayed studying while I went round the world. We did not like or dislike each other, we were just in different worlds. And indiferent to each other. It was after our 40's when we started bonding. Now we are much closer, but still in different worlds. And there was an evil granny as well. My mom's mom. She was a crooked piece of wood! Such difference to grandad, who was an angel. Me and my sister hated gran looking after us. She had no parenting skills. She was more like a prison warden! No wonder my mom run away and got married as soon as she could! Gran might of been like she was, because of lack of childhood. She was 'ethnic cleansed' while she was a little girl, early on 19 century, from Asia Minor, the Aegean side of the coast of Turkey. The exact same tale described in a book by Thea Halo, 'Not even my name'. Or it could of been the tough life she had. She got pregnant 14 times, but only had 2 children!
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I'm not sure just what makes some people enjoy being mean to others. But you DO see it a lot here and there, so it must be just a part of human nature. Your poor Pa.... 
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Oh, no.... I definitely saw the humor. Actually, Grandma was a funny person... in a weird way.  But your poor Da having to suffer that *humor* all while growing up. . That had to be..... interesting. 
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