The Hag

Wow. I am finding some of my old writings and it’s a sorrowful glimpse into the past. My sisters, my Dad, and I had been through all kinds of hell with my mother and this particular piece I found really brought those memories to the surface. I wrote this about the time my parents finally got divorced andMom had left the state; she actually left when my youngest sister was still in high school. My poor Dad had been put through the wringer for so many years! I remember being fearful that I was going to be just like my mother and I didn’t want my kids to know that person.

~~~

The Hag

I can’t think of a hug or a kiss that I care to remember from my dear, ‘sweet’ mother.

I remember the pain of feeling about one inch high because I didn’t do something exactly right.

I remember the pain when my mother left, but I never felt better when she had finally gone.

We all found peace of some kind, especially Dad, who is finally free.

I don’t think I can ever be free because I fear that I am her and she is me.

I want my kids to remember a loving mother, and not the hag I will turn out to be.

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Mom passed away after an auto accident about a year or so after she left. She was the type of person who defied anyone who told her what she could or couldn’t do and that included laws. She refused to wear a seatbelt because she said she shouldn’t have to if she didn’t want to. She said it was no one else’s business.

Tragically, she wasn’t wearing a seatbelt when she fell asleep at the wheel. (Mixing alcohol and medication will do that to a person, as well as impair your ability to make sound decisions…she wasn’t good at that in the first place.) She was thrown from her truck and died instantly.

Such a very sad time, but in my heart, I knew something was going to happen because of the way she had chosen to live her life.

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