Like vomit it surged up to my brain
stem. I tried to mentally swallow it back, choked and it retched up
uncontrollably into the memory cells of my brain, its acid etching them
Please God, no, don't let me think
My desperate plea swept aside, in gut wrenching mental heaves it came up in waves.
Mom was a whore! Mom was a whore! Mom was a whore!
No erase it! Do not think it! It is not true!
Yet the words kept coming.
was a whore!
I mentally calculated the time, the
days the men each day. A number flashed, as she so innocently expressed it, she
was sexed. I calculated she was sexed over a thousand times. The image of
sailors, swarming off a big ship, standing in the foyer, waiting their time to
sex Mom crept into my mind.
Oh God don't let me think this.
Driving on The Alameda to Santa
Clara, I had to pull over. Parked in a bus lane I shake sobbed, not over what
happened to Mom, for me. I didn’t want to carry the burdens first my mother in
law and then Mom put on my shoulders. If only I could un-hear what I heard.
I wanted my old truth back. I wanted Mom, I
wanted my mother, my real mother but she was gone.