I can remember that day vividly.
We had been at the neighbor’s house who had a big inflatable pool in her
backyard. We spent a lot of time there.
She was high as a kite. I watched her climb
in to the pool with all of her clothes on. She was wearing a flimsy navy blue
top with a full length skirt. She was stunning and elegant.
I
watched her lower herself slowly in to the pool. The sun was an endless fire
that day. I watched the look on her face and you would’ve sworn she had died
and gone to Honolulu. With a drink in her hand and her body saturated with pool
water, she became someone else. I don’t think my mother was ever happier than
when she was not herself.
Again, from her journal:
Because
that’s the thing. I’m happiest when I’m not myself. When I escape and hide
behind whatever I can…I guess I never learned that lesson—to be a big girl and
face my problems.
No comments:
Post a Comment