Unconditional Love
Last night my mascara ran all over striped golden pillow cases and the white cardigan sweater of my gaurdian angel. She has black hair and wears jean skirts. She loves pineapples and Jesus and makes me want to have faith again. Sitting around a card table and the church congregation of mothers and fathers and children and college kids laughed about undeserved spankings and walking their daughters down the aisle and memories of being a family. They love eachother unconditionally while we eat lemon cake and sing happy birthday. They forgive my mistakes and welcome me with open arms. When they hold me I can't help but cry because I don't deserve to be held like that. I have never been held like that. I didn't know how much I longed for someone to hold me like that. To stroke my blonde hair and whisper in my ear that they were proud of me. That I was strong. That I was beautiful. That they would to take care of me. That I was safe. That I didn't deserve the things in my life and that
it wasn't my fault.
I didn't know how long I had been doing the holding. How long I had been doing the whispering. I look at their modest sweaters and jean skirts, long unbrushed grey hair, silver cross necklaces, unpolished fingernails, compassionate eyes. I look at them and sob because my family has never known this beauty. Oh yes, they l
ove. But they love in rated R movies and well meant lies and self centered motives. They love in new jaguar convertibles and beautiful whores at our dinner table and fifty dollar bills. Their love is messy and unclean and broken. I have never known dinners like the one i had last night. My brother and sister have never known dinners like the one I had last night. Never known love like the love that I was showered with. Pure. Whole. A love that doesnt ask for anything in return.
ove. But they love in rated R movies and well meant lies and self centered motives. They love in new jaguar convertibles and beautiful whores at our dinner table and fifty dollar bills. Their love is messy and unclean and broken. I have never known dinners like the one i had last night. My brother and sister have never known dinners like the one I had last night. Never known love like the love that I was showered with. Pure. Whole. A love that doesnt ask for anything in return. I have been in the darkness for so long that when these people bathed me in light I wanted to run. My body is trembling because in three hours from now I will know if I can finally come home or if my pretty words i spent so long to write were not enough. Please
Please let them be enough.
2 comments:
I am amazed by your prolific way of writing exactly what you are feeling in such a simple, straightforward manner. I admire it. I wish I could say what I was feeling as easily as you make it look.
I relate a lot to SO much of what you have written today, and yesterday too. I can't believe it because I feel like you have taken words out of my mind. I don't even know you, and I understand something about a simple yet complicated feeling.
I pray your words are enough. They should be more than enough. God already says we are enough, that we are worth it.
I'm enjoying your writing Mallory—both the style and the content. A shame there is so much angst and pain in your life (to the reader at least), but it’s making good art. Keep it up!
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