my mother's runaway bride...

When you consciously (or unconsciously) forget unwanted memories, it's called motivated forgetting. Its a coping technique I am good at-- even before I first step in school.

I remembered my first days in school. I don't go straight to the classroom but hangs around that big tree where the school's humungous bell was hanging...by myself. Circling it, dancing around it as if playing with its soul. Then I'd stop. Runs back home. Gets the ire of my mother who never failed to send me back to school accompanied by a neighbor who--- would just drop me off by the school's gate entrance. And I'd be dancing with the tree again until it's time to go home.

I don't remember when I started to like school. But I am smart.

I am smart but I am and had always been my mother's runaway bride.

It was my mother's birthday yesterday. I was aware of it, I've always looked forward to that date especially when I started earning my own money and able to spend gifts for my mother. Unfortunately, I was stricken with the motivated forgetting plague.

I've done it again.

Did you really leave me again?

After all the seasons I spent waiting,

watching out the window,

listening at the door,

waiting for the news of your return.

For the news that you realized

that someone important was waiting for you?

A whole lifetime I’ve been waiting.

I can’t believe you’re not coming back

I can’t believe I’m supposed to stop waiting

I can’t believe you left me again.

Comments

I won't remember you....

I won’t remember you. I never remember anything that hurts me. Harsh huh! Acknowledging the pain and feeling it is one way but the easiest way there is when you have pain is to suck it up and forget about it. I did that. Done that. I learned to be cynical and stoical. I never remember anything that hurts me. When my father died, I only cried the day he was laid to rest. I cried hard in 2013 when I left my mother in a hospital bed without all her senses and memories…and the day she died. Crying helps. Instead of avoiding our feelings, we can simply feel them and forget about it. However, when events and circumstances overwhelm one to the point where they are an emotional wreck --- there’s always a medicine for it! So, Mrs. M got her dose. She passed away. It was sad. She was a happy soul. Someone just hurt me. I won’t remember you. ...

behind that closed door....

When you have a competent desk Executive Assistant you’re sure to end up with a glory day! Liz is efficient. Ask her to do anything and she will do it in an instant, well, of course sometimes she forgets especially when her laughing buddy is beside her! She works quietly. You won’t even notice her leave the building unless she says her goodbyes! Ahh like her FA! LOL! Sneaky. She is behind this closed door. This door used to be wide open years ago, and it just changed recently, for some stupid reason. Anyhow, open or closed door you can still hear her giggling or I can still disturb her with just a press of “transfer 10” in the phone in from my Station. She is the “MAN” (as Paul often says) when it comes to translating for my Hispanic patients. I always ridicule her for getting a more paying job as translator, @#$% some people who knew how to use the language line are just too lazy they would always call her to translate. Geez. I am one of them. As she passed by my Stat...

this used to be my playground...

Growing up, we have that graphic bible books that we've outgrown. I remembered those days where we (my siblings) snuggled our small-framed bodies to each other just to share those books and (that) one small book about the monkey and the turtle. So... When I am lost or out of sight , I am just in any place or aisle with books. Bookstores is my playground. I’m a late bloomer though… when I was a kid. I don’t have that pleasure or leisure to visit a bookstore, nor the money to spend on books. I was introduced to a library when I was already in high school (as the school had its own library). Unfortunately I don’t have, again, the pleasure to spend my free time hugging all those books in the library as we needed to help out in household chores. I only visit the library on a per need basis But I do not like libraries. There is that feeling of suffocation when you walk through a quiet, quaint, dim lighted book aisles… THO...

and so it goes...

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