Fierce and flawless 2006-06-11 10:32 p.m.


I spoke to my mother for the first time in ten days... she's been away and unable to reach...

It was the first time I could tell her about my week... my days and my dreams at night.

I didn't make it more than 10 minutes before I cried.

I cried in self-pity. I cried in exhaustion. I cried because I hurt... and other than my mother who can understand my hurt?

She sighs... "I rocked life into you. I stayed up for days rocking, whispering and talking to you. They told me you were dying and I thought, fine, but she'll die in my arms to my voice... and my touch. I rocked you... and you smiled... and smiled... the very same smile you have today... and I knew my baby wasn't dying.... I knew as long as I rocked her she'd smile... and she'd live.

I didn't know it'd be this hard for you. I didn't know everything would be this hard. I'm sorry."

"Yes Mum, why didn't you stop rocking? Why not just let me go?"

"Because I love your smile."
______________________________________

I tell her about a dream I've had.... once, twice, three times and more in the last while... a dream that's clear as if it was yesterday... I haven't told anyone... not even my husband, and I'm sure it's cause for my head pain.

I ask Mum, because I didn't know my grandfather well... and she did. I ask her because no one ever talks about my grandfather... not his person... not his personality... not what he did... nor the things he said.

I tell Mum of my vivid dream and say... "pretty fucked up thing to dream about don't you think?"

She cries... her heart breaks... and I think... it's a dream, Mother... but her tears are thick and her voice has stopped.

"Mama... it's a dream. It's fucked up, but it's just a dream, isn't it?"

"I don't know... but you need to ask your father what he thinks."

I couldn't... but my mother is right... there are truths a son needs to face of his father... I just don't want my father to hate himself for something i can't prove is true... something he couldn't change anyway.

Now I know what kind of man my grandfather was...

My memory is fierce... and what my grandfather thought I'd live a life never remembering is haunting me in my sleep...


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