Wondering on Wednesday: What Questions Would You Ask?
Tomorrow I’m headed to Vermont to continue working on the memoir/book project I began in December. It’s a whirlwind trip in which my singular purpose is to race clock hands while foraging for memories and truth.
I’m excited to conduct more first-person interviews with my grandmother, mother and aunts and to unearth long-buried stones of grief and wisdom that meander through this story. I’ve repeatedly assured myself that the most important treasure to have ribbons ripped off in this telling is the perspective and history it will finally lay bare amongst people who share a lineage and a blood line; to gather our souls and release old burdens. That’s not entirely accurate.
In those miniscule chambers of our hearts where hope begins to grow, my truth is that I want to massage these project pages into a published work. I want to share it with anyone who’ll take the time to read and to discover that most likely not everything is as it seems. I want light to shine so radiantly that anyone who reads it, or talks about it, or thinks about it will wonder about the consequences of closed eyes.
As I work to sharpen my spade today and prepare for tomorrow’s flight, I wonder if I’ll have the courage to ask the questions, the insight to follow up and the knowledge to tie it together. I wonder if I’ll really have the guts to tell the story.
A friend advised not so long ago that Shout isn’t the place to publish pieces of this work. It’s too personal, she said, too difficult a subject for a mommy-type blog. I’ve wondered on many a Wednesday if she was right and I’ve avoided the barring of bones such posts require, until now.
This blog does not have a large audience, but the people who do routinely click through are not drive-by shooters. You’re intelligent, contemplative readers who engage with content and ponder life’s personal insanities right along with me. I realize I have a unique opportunity to ask for your input. I also know that sometimes you can’t simply dip your toes in the stream; the best way to discover if I have the courage to do something is to simply hold my breath and jump .
I’m shooting straight, or at least lining up my sights. Help add to the cache of questions I’ll be toting to Vermont tomorrow and tweaking through the weekend.
I’m Wondering on Wednesday: If you picked up a book and read the following prologue, would you want to read more and what would you wonder?
I remember his hands shaking as they began to coldly caress my 12-year-old, half-woman body. He stroked the back of my head with a whisper while I sat frigid on the floor between his legs. Hovering above me from his favorite over-stuffed chair, the seat nobody else was allowed to sit in, he suffocated me with his stench of Marlboro Lights inhaled to the filter and stale coffee
My grandmother was hypnotically hanging laundry near the garden. I suppose she was wearing that funny little green apron with side pockets full of wooden clothespins. The spring breeze must have amused itself across the gentle curve of her burdened shoulders while she hurried to finish her chore and return to whatever was baking in the house. I still wonder if she realized in those moments she stepped back across the threshold, when he heard the door open and the gentle fall of her hurried footsteps as she rounded the corner and saw me on the floor, unable or unwilling to meet her eyes, did she know?
He’d shoved me away from him, sullied and dirty, abandoned to rearrange myself, my zipper and my training bra. Did she know it wasn’t cookies or cakes she needed to worry about baking for too long? It was a man’s lust for a child charring my soul that should have assaulted her nostrils and taken her breath away.
He still had jet-black hair. A full hat slicked back with 54 years of tonic, each follicle paralyzed and afraid to move. People congratulated his luck for not succumbing to previous generations’ baldness. It was fun to sneak up behind him and quickly run my hand back and forth through his perfectly coifed imitation halo. He would grumble good-naturedly and reach for me, but I’d jump just beyond his clutch and giggle wildly. He’d pretend annoyance and reach for his black comb, the ten cent kind you pick up while standing in a pharmacy check-out line. He’d pull it from the back pocket of his pressed and stone-washed jeans, and slowly, carefully arrange each strand back into place. It didn’t take long to fix his hair. He had been training it all of his married life.
Today I didn’t giggle. Today I got too close. Today he caught me and pulled me to to sit obediently at his feet. Something about the air changed, electrified. I could feel his anticipation before I actually felt his hands. Softly, gently, he stroked and kissed my head calming me like a guillotined rabbit. I could feel his warm breath on the back of my neck as he leaned in, bent closer and slowly slid his hand the length of my dark brown hair and into the scooped neck of my baby blue shirt. “You’re Grampy’s little girl,” he whispered again. And again. And again. It became his mantra and my betrayal.
But this is not my story, or even his. This is the story of a woman two generations before me, and of the women from a generation between. This was simply my journey into their world, their secret and their denial. It was in fact my initiation.
You truly are amazing, remember when I said you are my hero … this indeed is why! Your courage is amazing and inspiring. Thank you! Hugs!
Amys last blog post..Wordful Wednesday – Night Cap, Anyone?
Oh yeah and yes, I would read more! Good luck on your trip!
Amys last blog post..Wordful Wednesday – Night Cap, Anyone?
First of all, yours is not a “mommy-type blog,” it’s your blog. To say whatever you want. So if you want to post something that might make people itchy, tough for them. IMO, we all need more exposure to things that make us itchy, I think it strengthens us and nudges us to expand our peripheral vision.
Second, to answer your question, I was definitely drawn in by your prologue. Now I want to know what happened to the previous generations, and how it all led to the situation with your grandfather.
Third – JUMP!
Violets last blog post..It’s been three weeks
Yes.
Jans last blog post..The Very Model of Fame
@ Amy: Thanks for the hug and the encouragement, truly.
@ Violet: Thanks and me tooo. There’s never a valid excuses for three generations of abuse, but there are reasons, if that makes sense, and I’m trying to make sense of the exact question you pose. I’ve already been surprised and humbled by so much of what I’ve learned, including some of what I’m learning about myself.
@Jan: There’s power in a single word.
I love it, Tricia! In a way that makes me love you even more, and feel for the young Tricia and the women who came before you. I can’t wait to read more, and I’m so glad you posted this bit here.
HeatherPrides last blog post..A Very Purple Day
Tricia:
You are very courageous in exposing such a pertinent subject on your blog and I just hope the community responds accordingly. Reading, but not commenting, just tells me that people in general are not ready to tackle issues of great depth and importance like this one, and that is very sad.
@Heather: What a great sentiment and thanks so much for your enthusiasm.
@Kim: You’re right that it’s terribly difficult for people to engage in challenging subject matter, especially of a personal nature, but that’s exactly why I want to chronicle this story. Even if people are unwilling to publicly engage, I hope they’ll do so privately and that we’ll all think twice about turning our heads away when people need us. At least that’s my hope in writing this story. Thanks so much for your constant devotion and encouragement!
Yes and yes some more. Have fun in Vermont!
steenky bees last blog post..Please, Help A Sister Out!
I would definitely read more. This is a very difficult topic to talk about…especially for the older generations who were taught or forced to keep those matters private.
My heart just breaks for her..
Monicas last blog post..What More Can A Citizen Do?
First I must say that I don’t consider this a mommy blog and that you should write what you feel in your heart and want to write about.
Secondly, reading this prologue, gave me the goose bumps. I am a product of generations of abuse…abuse, that has never and will never get talked about, even today. Keeping all the secrets and living in denial has been our family game. Thankfully, most of my siblings and I have now broken the cycle…yet most of us will never talk to each other about all the things that happened. I would read this book, because I know I am not alone, but often times feel alone. I know it would be healing for me.
Tricia, you are a courageous woman. I am so glad that you are going to tell this story because I know you will do a beautiful job! Have a good day in Vermont!
Loris last blog post..Addiction
Tricia, I am so intrigued by your prologue, I want to read more. Like, right now!!
Have a good trip and please, keep writing. In writing, you will set us all free.
WickedStepMoms last blog post..My big mouth
I would! And my mom would. And my sister. I know that much! I am so excited for your project!!!
I agree, being stereotyped or boxed in by the ‘mommyblogging’ tag can be futile. I applaud you and your efforts. Your topics always make me think and I can’t wait to read more.
MamaGeeks last blog post..Necessities and Stuff.
Yes ma’am. It’s already on my list of “must reads”. Now, get it written!!
Midlife Slicess last blog post..Day Two Part II
Yes. I am riveted. And at the same time I know that I would struggle with picking it up everyday. But I would still pick it up until I finished. I hope you won’t think badly of me but it is stories like this that make me glad I have a gun. And know how to use it.
Smart Mouth Broads last blog post..PURDY PLEASE
Yes, I would read on. You write beautifully and bravely about a controversial subject. I have worked with abusers and survivers of abuse, and know how much courage it takes to speak out.
More than Just a Mothers last blog post..Identity crisis
You write absolutely beautifully. I think that this is something that you need to do for yourself, and that you need no other reason.
Tracys last blog post..Really, I am usually pretty fun
I would definitely read on.
Lisa Miltons last blog post..barriers
“guillotined rabbit”.
I’m really speachless. Anything I’d say isn’t good enough for your story.
Be brave! You are.
Many children in this world needs help. Everyone needs to shout.