People are strange, aren't they? Some of them, anyway. Some of the time. Maybe some of them just hide it better than others. Maybe we're all damned strange. I have my quirks and I freely admit it. Some people will never admit to anything other than perfection.
As you might remember, my mother died in January. She was a strange woman, but she would have endured torture rather than admit to any kind of imperfection. She was far from perfect. She was very lucky that all her children survived childhood and she didn't have to pay the consequences for ... stuff. I haven't said anything about what she left in her wake when she passed, a "surprise" that has caused the disintegration of what's left of my family. Maybe I will soon. Then again, maybe it's best left unsaid. But then it occurs to me, what am I protecting? Her? Why should I?
I'm thinking that maybe I'll divulge a "Mother" tidbit or two daily. Couldn't hurt.
But not today. Today, we're going to listen to some music and have ourselves a Terrific Tuesday!
Miss Begotten is one of my pet names for myself, for Southern Gothic reasons best kept to myself. Miss Begotten tries to speak plainly, but sometimes she tends to babble -- parenthetically, of course. It's never my intention to offend (and usually that's true - except on those [maybe not so] rare occasions when I mean it very friggin' much) but it sometimes happens, so if you're unusually easily offended...
5 comments:
I dunno...Some things ARE better left unsaid.
But if this is therapeutic of sorts?
Rock On Baby!!
I understand too well. I think in many ways we had the same mother.
You may be right, Galen. I haven't decided. Nor have my sister and I decided whether to start a *** *** Memorial Blog. LOL.:)
I think my mother came from "somewhere else," Roxan. Maybe yours did, too. And maybe they're best friends now, wherever they are.:)
SJ, I think it's a great idea. There are things that I can't tell about my Mama until after she is dead and gone. My kids and all of my relatives living (except for my 2 sisters) don't know what a hell of a childhood we had when Mama was an alcoholic bartender. She got sober at age 40 when she was preggers with my step-brother and cleaned up her act. Ever so often I let something slip (like once she won a dance contest, then beat the hell out of her dance partner with her purse when he tried to get 'fresh' with her) and my niece said, "You've got the wrong person. My Maw-Maw couldn't do that!" Ha! If they only knew.
Anyway, I say go for it. I'm working on my memoirs for my kids to have and do with as they will. BTW, love the song. Blessings!
LOL, Marion. Your mama's such a character. I hear you about the "Maw-Maw couldn't do that" thing. My sister wants to take out an ad in the paper for all the misguided souls who thought Mother "couldn't do that.":-)
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