PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
Mom was a Mrs. Cleaver parent until I was five, making time to show me I was loved. But mom’s priorities changed to going out and sleeping in late. By my teens, we were mutually antagonistic strangers. When she drank and I mouthed off, she ripped my hair out, slapped me, and knocked me down. I hated her and left home at seventeen.
Mom’s alcoholic and violent behavior continued, and I maintained my distance. But isn’t everyone supposed to love their mother? Now we meet once a month at Rosie’s Diner for lunch. She’s sober, and I pretend I care.
[100 words]
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is the validating host of Friday Fictioneers.
Tao Talk 
Kind of hard to “like” this one, but what I like is the excellent writing. Such a lot of (sad) story wrapped up in so few words!
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Linda, thank you very much. I appreciate your kind words.
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Very touching story.
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Sadje, thank you ❤
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You’re welcome
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Well this is very sad…and feels too true for comfort…
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Drug addiction and mental illness have destroyed many lives, and it is very sad 😦
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Perhaps from that tentative start they can find some point of further contact with each other. Probably not, but you never know
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You never know…
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Well done Lisa! and and an excellent write!.❤
I totally identify except mine didn’t drink and I don’t know if she’s even alive. No sympathy please.🙂 I’m over it. 😉💜
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Jen, thank you very much. I love your comment ❤
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🙂💜
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That is heartbraeking and I imagine getting her to care will take e Herculean effort (if possible) and I can’t say I blame her. Still… that once-per-month meeting is something.
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I echo your sentiments, Dale. Thank you for reading. It shows both are willing to pretend. Maybe one day things will change.
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I’m rooting for them! 🙂
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A cruel disease, and such a shame she can’t forgive, but it is hard to understand as a child in that situation.
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If it ended, maybe she could?
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I’ve seen this before…not me thank goodness but I’ve seen it.
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😦 It isn’t pretty.
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I’m not acquainted with Mrs Cleaver, but the context gave me everything I needed. Sad story for both the protagonist and the mother. I can feel their ‘reconciliation’ too.
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Thank you for reading and your thoughtful comment.
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A sad but predictable ending. (K)
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Powerfully ringing true for the realities of all too many, including the accommodations made to survival of the heart, after years of actual survival of the insanity one had little control over. Hugs, Na’ama
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Hugs back, Na’ama ❤
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Nicely written but truly sad story. I guess some wounds are just too big to ever heal!
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Thank you, Christian. The wounds won’t heal when they keep getting ripped open 😦
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I once heard a counsellor say ‘it’s not compulsory to love your mother’. What a lot that gave me to think about. Loved your story, in particular that ending.
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Sandra, I like the cultural edict that one must love their mother to the one that says one must love their God. It feels like a sin not to, no matter how undeserving that “icon” may be. I’m glad a counsellor had the courage to say it isn’t so. Thank you very much for your thoughtful comment.
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So sad and too true for many. Great writing, Lisa, thought-provoking too. Maybe they can find common ground again, if the mother can get off the booze. I wonder why she began to drink in the first place.
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Gah, thank you very much for your thoughtful comment.
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🙂
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Family can be the worst, it makes it difficult to break the emotional ties.
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James you are so right. Thank you for reading and your comment.
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Dear Lisa,
I wonder if trying to be Mrs. Cleaver didn’t send mom over the edge. Pretty tough standard that even Barbara Billingsly didn’t relate to. 😉 That last line is a sock to the gut. Well done. Very well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Rochelle, you very well may be right. She just wasn’t cut out to be a wife or a mother. Yet onward she stumbled having a whole passel of kids and another husband. Thank you very much for your thoughtful and kind comment.
Shalom,
Lisa
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You’re quite welcome, Lisa. 😄
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Wow! Sad, sad story Lisa. If I may quote Bukowski again, “No one ever forgives a drunk.” (or something like that).
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Bill that’s a new Buk quote for me. Great and incisively accurate. Yet at the same time, I don’t think the drunk gives a sh*t if they are forgiven or not — which gets to the crux of the matter. Thank you very much for your wonderful comment 🙂
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Step 8: “Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.” Yes, for some, I agree, but forgiveness is not up to them. It’s up to us. Maybe it is how we define forgiveness. 🙂
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Bill, I am well-acquainted with the process of forgiveness and how it takes the burden off of the shoulders of the victim/wronged and places it on the shoulders of the perpetrator/wrongdoer to do with what they will. It doesn’t mean the victim/wronged continues to subject themselves to current abuse because of a rationalization that “that’s just the way they are and I forgive them.” I like you getting into the nitty gritty of this because it’s important that we as human beings talk about it.
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Indeed. I agree with you. Sometimes, reconciliation is not possible. And we are certainly not going back for more of the same.
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With such a ring of truth. Sad, relatable. Sad. 😦
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Thank you very much, Trish.
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at least, they see each other. that’s a good start. 🙂
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Yes 🙂
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A sad story, but maybe with some hope of a reconciliation somewhere down the line.
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Sounds about right, Ali. You never know…
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At least she’s doing the recent thing and making an effort. Perhaps they’ll have a proper chat about the past in time.
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Maybe, Keith. Never say never.
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Too much damage done I think. It’s very sad for both., but maybe time will heal. Well written, Lisa.
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Thanks much, Brenda.
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This reminds me a lot of “a child called it” if you haven’t read it you should, though it might be triggering
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I have read it, and yes definite similarities. Thanks for reading and the suggestion.
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Well and powerfully written. That last line is a killer.
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Penny, thank you very much.
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She should have been sober when it mattered. Great storytelling, Lisa.
pax,
dora
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You’re so right, Dora. Thanks for reading and your comment.
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A powerful story that hits like an emotional gut punch at the end. I think we all have people like this in our lives. I *love* you but I *love* for you to stay over there emotionally. Totally feeling that.
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Well-said about the feeling, Anne. I’m both glad and sad you can relate to it. Thank you.
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So well written it comes across as true, een if it’s not it could be.
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Michael, thank you.
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You outdid yourself with this one, MS. Excelleint writing! Sad but true. .
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Neel, thank you very much and glad you like it. It is a sad situation 😦
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