A childhood memory

My mother was my greatest influence growing up. The way her hair curled as it touched the middle of her back and the soft purity of her hands was so inviting. Everyone was aware of her graceful beauty, expect for her. She walked in a way of confidence that accented the sway of her hips. Anyone who ever talked to her would know how her eyes would draw you into any kind of conversation, whether it be about the latest clothing fashions or taxes. These were all things that made people fall in love with her… or fall in love with her outer existence. But no one truly knew who my mother was, no one but me. My childhood with her was always filled with adventures that could make me smile for days on end.

It wasn’t until December 17^th, 1984, that the adventures had stopped. Darkness had been lingering around for many months now. Trips to medical institutions became an all too familiarity. People, that I never got to officially meet, had been talking with my mother, setting negative influences into her mind. One, as she had described, was an older man who had been at war; then it was a younger boy who told her that she was spending too much time with me and that she needed to pay more attention to him. However, the one that would always stick with me until this day was a different kind of creature, something much like an angel. This odd existence had encouraged my mother that it was her time to return to heaven. That night, my life changed so drastically. No medical marvel could have fixed or saved her from her choice. That night, my mother left me, deserted in my own abandoned conscience. The only thing that made me stay were her occasional visits where through a whisper in the wind, I could hear her tell me, “Keep shining my sweet sunflower.” 

Reviews

[alanwgraham]

Well done for sharing this sad story with us Annie. You have expressed how much you loved your mum and she loved you and this is the thing to hang on to. I can identify with your mothers story as i discovered I had bipolar disorder years ago. Its hard for others to understand but any changes in personality are outwith your control. You are very lucky to have friends and family that can support and understand. It can be easy for those left behind to accept some blame for what happened but there is no blame with anyone just an unfortunate illness no different from a heart attack. We just have to remember but make the most of our own lives.
All the best,
Alan

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Annie for sharing the story. A sad ending to the story. I did like the final words. Kind memories make us know. Once we were loved.
Coyote