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Memory: How Parents Divorce
July 9, 2008 - 8:16am — Lenelle Moïse
When it is summer, when it is Sunday and you are five years old and your storybooks are too predictable and the TV is damaged/decorative and the radio only offers piercing chords of whistling cracks and your favorite colors in the crayon box (red, green, purple) are left at school or broken, sometimes you are quite bored with talking to yourself so you listen to your father's sweet phone voice calling someone sweetheart (not you) in the other room.
From one tiny, copper-colored, bare foot to the other, you shift your weight in celebratory dance. And when your mother comes home from work, smelling like carrot cake even though she's been cleaning porcelain hotel toilets for the past 12 hours, you wrap your shiny, skinny arms around her neck and say, "Mommi, I liked it when Papi called you sweetheart this morning."
You expect her to show off her gold-capped teeth in delight, but she frowns and asks, gravely, "When did your father call me sweetheart?” because, indeed, it had been extraordinary (which is why you did that dance). So, throat stiffening, you hesitate, but then whisper-repeat, "This morning,” and your mother gently shoves you off her lap. Her feet fall heavy as she charges into the other room.
Her demanding soprano and his defensive, quaking tenor compete to penetrate the walls of your ugly city apartment. You point your head outside a window and wave to the chubby, gold-necklace-wearing boy across the way who sometimes has sex with his cousins on his third-floor back porch. He does not wave back, so you stick your tongue out; and he sticks his middle finger up, so you shut the window tight.
After you shut all of the windows, you crawl into the queen-sized bed you share with your mother. You take a nap that skips away when your father slams the front door behind him. You will never live with him again.
From one tiny, copper-colored, bare foot to the other, you shift your weight in celebratory dance. And when your mother comes home from work, smelling like carrot cake even though she's been cleaning porcelain hotel toilets for the past 12 hours, you wrap your shiny, skinny arms around her neck and say, "Mommi, I liked it when Papi called you sweetheart this morning."
You expect her to show off her gold-capped teeth in delight, but she frowns and asks, gravely, "When did your father call me sweetheart?” because, indeed, it had been extraordinary (which is why you did that dance). So, throat stiffening, you hesitate, but then whisper-repeat, "This morning,” and your mother gently shoves you off her lap. Her feet fall heavy as she charges into the other room.
Her demanding soprano and his defensive, quaking tenor compete to penetrate the walls of your ugly city apartment. You point your head outside a window and wave to the chubby, gold-necklace-wearing boy across the way who sometimes has sex with his cousins on his third-floor back porch. He does not wave back, so you stick your tongue out; and he sticks his middle finger up, so you shut the window tight.
After you shut all of the windows, you crawl into the queen-sized bed you share with your mother. You take a nap that skips away when your father slams the front door behind him. You will never live with him again.
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19 Comments
Good writing! I can feel the
Good writing! I can feel the story, think I even could if I hadn't had experiences like that, too. I wish I never had to see my dad again, though...
"To summarize: it is a well-known fact that those people who most want to rule people are, ipso facto, those least suited to do it. To summarize the summary: anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do
Beautiful as always
Too bad that the sweetness of innocence probably became the burden of guilt. I hope all has been resolved in your own mind and that your heart has recovered. Keep telling the stories that grab the hearts of others. Thanks. ATK
You will definitely by in my thoughts!
I can't wait to see the show.
"Art Over Exhasution", true dat, Sistah!
I have finally let go of my parents divorce...
I have finally started having relationships based on my feelings and not the ones left from the impressions of their divorce.
I have finally become my true self.
Just let go....A really good friend tells me to "Breathe and Relax" I'm taking her advice!!
Your way with words touches my heart....Thank you!!
BUBBA LOVE
LAKE
I'm sorry, Lenelle...
I'm sorry, Lenelle...
I remember sitting on my mom's lap while my dad was throwing blame on to her. Then my mom would throw blame on to him. And each time, I'm not sure if I said it or just thought it, but I was saying "yeah, why?". But I think I just sat there sucking my thumb. I was 3 when my father moved out.
Not long afterwards, I remember my older brother telling me - "everything was fine till you came along". In fact he made it a point to blame me various times.
My parents didn't divorce till I was 15 - and I found out through one of my best friends. Her mom saw it in the paper.
My parents actually loved each other, and stayed as friends - I come to learn it was my father's inability to divorce his mom (relatively speaking). He allowed my nana to step on my mom's "woman of the house" feet - and never stood up to her. If my parents made plans and decisions - my nana would add her 2 cents afterwards - and he would allow her the final say, what should have been between my parents.
When I was an adult, and I was sitting around with both my parents - drinking coffee and they were reminiscing - my dad even admitted if he would have been stronger and stood up and stopped it, he thought that they'd still be together.
rovermom :)
Life is a 3D puzzle and everyone has a piece!
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I hear you...
My star-crossed parents still get a bit starry-eyed when they're around each other.
Wow, I felt your emotions in
Wow, I felt your emotions in your blog. Divorce can be tough on kids, but bad relationships can be worse. I remember how my dad tore my mom down on an emotional and physical level daily, still effects my relationships to this day.
been there....
its funny how times that like can be remembered down to every last detail. and sometimes you can barely remember the good ones. i remember the whole summer that lead to my parents divorce. but i try to think about the good times we had as a family too.
Details
How those details entice and haunt us. Amazing images.
Taem?
This blog post took my
This blog post took my breath away.
Beautiful. Is this a
Beautiful. Is this a chapter from a novel? You have Toni Morrison's talent for imagery and stirring the reader's senses.
I'm not sure if this is a piece of a novel yet but...
I am totally blushing. Thank you! I'm going to carry that compliment in my pocket for the rest of the week.
Wide Grin, Lenelle
wow
as always
~paz y amor siempre
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My parents had an ugly marriage to the point that my mother moved into the guest room. They did not like to explain things to me so I asked my mother why she was sleeping down there instead of in her room with my father. A huge battle ensued and I was caught in the middle my mom using me against my father for asking that simple little question.
I never asked questions again.
They divorced a year later and my dad moved out while I was at summer camp.
I'm sorry
Oh, your poor thing! Did your dad stay in contact at least? How did you do/are you doing now?
*
yeah, i stayed in contact with my father for a few years, switching houses every week until i went off to college. i stopped talking to him after he talked to my sister about my mothers will and what would happen with the houses and money if something were to happen to her.
i live on the other side of the country and i barely talk to my sister or my mother. i think it is better that way.
though, i am still dealing with issues of trust, as you could imagine. i am doing a lot better now, thanks for asking.
Rich
you nailed it. it is the little things that we remember and it is often the little things that can change our lives.
hey, thanks for blogging. i know that you are crazy busy these days!
V
Oooh girl!
Thanks so much for that shout out, Val! I must admit, my EXPATRIATE co-star and I (that's us in the pink and black ad looking all hot) have the most insane rehearsal schedule ever created. This week, I'm in the theatre from 1PM to sometimes midnight! Aaaah! Thank Goodness I'm so in love with the show. It's such a thrill to act like a rock star. We played to a full house last night which was as energizing as all of you are. Think of us tonight at 8PM EST.
Art Over Exhaustion, Lenelle
Lenelle Moïse, come back !
I thought you were on holidays... and I was thinking : "when is she coming back again ? when is she coming back again ? when is she coming back again ?"
I guess I am not the only one to miss you.