Sins of the Parents

SINS OF THE PARENTS BY MARIA PEACOCK

By all accounts Mia was not beautiful or pretty, at least in the traditional sense of the words. She did have unusual features and with a little care she could have been attractive. Unfortunately, Mia never felt pretty or beautiful or even oddly attractive and she acted accordingly. She walked and talked as if she were the ugliest person that ever lived. She felt she was unworthy of love and therefore unworthy of notice. Her nose was a bit too wide for her face and her golden yellow skin was marred by acne. Few people would ever know that she had the most beautiful grey eyes. Her head was always downcast to hide the sadness that she knew people would see if they ever really looked at her. Mia’s reddish brown hair which she wore pulled back in the tightest of buns was long, frizzy and unmanageable. Her small, white, pearly teeth would transform her entire face when she laughed and smiled. Unfortunately, Mia rarely found something to smile about. While she wasn’t fat, she could have stood to lose ten pounds. Her clothes, ill fitting and old fashioned were usually picked up at the Goodwill, The Salvation Army, or a church bazaar.

Mia was poor and had been her entire 38 years on this earth. She supposed that she came into this world alone and poor and would probably leave the same way. She grew up in this rambling, crumbling, piece of a house which sat on a block with other dilapidated buildings. The house was owned by Mia’s father whom she assumed felt that he was doing something particularly special by providing a roof for his illegitimate, half black daughter.

Mia sighed as she thought about her past, her present, and her future. She realized that she could count on one hand the things that brought her joy. One place in particular where she could find happiness was this room. She loved this room, her bedroom. It was her sanctuary. It wasn’t a huge room but it was the best room in the whole shabby house. It was the place where she felt the most comfortable. It was her hidden treasure and no one from the outside could ever intrude. The room was at the very top of the three story Victorian frame house and surrounded by windows on all sides which were covered by the sheerest gossamer curtains. It had hardwood floors that she tried her best to keep shellacked and shiny. The walls which she painted and spackled herself, were a creamy butter yellow which boasted Mia’s own original paintings. There were only two pieces of furniture in the room – a king-sized dark mahogany bed and a small, 4 drawer dresser which sat snugly in the small closet close to the door. The bed was situated directly in the center of the room, so that she could feel the warmth from the sun on all sides. These two pieces of furniture, inherited from her mother Midge, were the only things she owned outright.

During the summer the heat in the room was almost unbearable but during the winter mornings and afternoons, it was like heaven. She often felt that the warmth of the room was like a big, welcoming hug. The kind that most children get from their parents, the kind she never received but so desperately longed for. As a child, when Mia came home from school it was like the room was saying “hello darling, how was your day?” And she would respond by telling the room all about her day. She never expected the room to answer back but it was comforting to pretend that someone or something was listening to her.

Mia lay face up on her bed, staring at the ceiling and contemplating her life. She watched the flickering light from the store across the street and found it oddly comforting. The Q in Jim’s Liquors was fading fast and the blinking from that sign left the bedroom eerily illuminated. It was the only light in the room and to Mia it was indicative of her life. No matter how hard she tried, like the sign, she was never quite complete. She was missing a vital part, the thing that would make her whole. Often she would look up at her ceiling, watching the blinking light, waiting for it to extinguish itself. Mia felt that when the Q finally flickered for the last time, miraculously things in her life would change.

As she stared up at the ceiling she thought of her mother and the sadness that enveloped her like a second skin. She was thinking of the father that she never really knew. And she was thinking of how the sins of the parents are visited upon the child. Mia wished she could go back forty one years and stop those two from ever meeting. She wished that her mother had never laid eyes upon her father and felt the sting of that all consuming, inferno-like heat and passion that she so foolishly called love. If they had never met then Mia would have never been born and she would have never known the misery that was such a part of her life.

Her father never loved Mia and he barely acknowledged her existence. He had been married for fifteen years before he became involved with Mia’s mother. Mia never learned how they met or became involved. She only knew that as a child, her mother would get so excited when he would come over. She would put on makeup, perfume, a nice dress and wait patiently for his arrival. Sometimes he would arrive on time but mostly he came whenever the urge hit him.

Mia’s mother would encourage her daughter to give her father a hug upon his arrival. He never seemed to welcome that small amount of affection; he would tense up and never hugged her back. He never spoke to her. He never asked her about her life; school, boys or friends. He wasn’t curious about her likes or dislikes, her talents, strengths or weaknesses. Mia was simply something that inhabited the house like a worn couch or the squeaky stairs; something to be tolerated. This would prove to be an invaluable lesson for young Mia. She learned to never give love unconditionally. After a while she stopped offering her affection. It wasn’t real anyway. Midge, her mother, never hugged or told Mia that she was loved. She never told Mia that she was special or pretty, or talented, or that she was proud of her. Whenever Mia’s father showed up, that’s when Midge wanted to pretend that they were one great big loving family. What a joke! Mia would stand off to the side and watch and wait for the inevitable. The time when the niceties were over and her parents would disappear into the bedroom without even a goodnight. In the morning he would be gone and money would be on the kitchen table.
Once, when Mia was ten, she asked her mother about her father. She wanted to know why he didn’t live with them, why her mother waited for him and why he acted as if Mia was invisible. Her mother offered no real explanations. She merely stated that he was the only man she could ever or would ever love and that he meant everything to her. She first laid eyes on him when she was just seventeen, and even though he was white, older and married, Midge knew he was the one for her. It was their destiny and she would wait until the time came that they could lovingly live together. Two years later, when Mia came along, he became distant. Something happened in his life that changed him. That was it. That was the only conversation they ever had about the man. As Mia grew older and understood the complexity of her parent’s relationship, she began to resent her father. Her mother had given her entire life to a man who was not worthy. He was a thief. He stole the most precious thing a person owns – their soul.

It wasn’t until after his death, when Mia was eighteen, that she fully understood the situation. It was a cold, snowy, January evening. Mia and her mother stood in the kitchen, trying to gain warmth from the nearby stove. The kitchen was where they would lay their heads that evening and it wouldn’t be the first time. Many winter nights they slept in that kitchen in order to stay warm. They knew it was dangerous but the house was old, and drafty, and required oil to stay heated. Her father had not been around in sometime and neither Mia nor her mother could afford to pay for it.

Her mother was drunk as usual and Mia as usual, was trying to get her to sober up by drinking coffee. Midge was in a sad and distant place. She didn’t seem to see or hear Mia. It was like she was in her own little world. Mia looked at her mother and she didn’t see a young, vibrant woman under the age of forty with forty more wonderful years ahead of her. She saw an old, thin woman who was defeated by life. Her hair, once curly and thick and jet black was now thin and stringy and grey and brittle. Her cheeks were sunken in and her eyes had dark circles around them. The lines around her eyes and mouth were not due to laughter. They were just deep grooves that showed the signs of unhealthy living and premature aging. Midge was never a large woman but looking at her now she appeared emaciated. She was small and frail and looked as if a big wind came by she would be blown away. She was starving in so many ways.

The drinking started with one glass of wine while she waited for Mia’s father to visit. Over the years it progressed to two glasses, then a whole bottle. After a while it was just beer. Sometimes it was one or two six packs to get her through the day but other times, like tonight, it appeared that she would down three six packs before eventually falling to sleep. Mia wanted to help her mother but she didn’t know how. Her mother was always drunk. Six months ago she lost her job as a cleaning woman which seemed to push her further into the sweet abyss that the drink offered. As Mia looked at her mother she knew that she had to take control of her life or she would end up just like Midge with alcohol as her only friend. Frustrated, Mia left the kitchen to retrieve the blankets that would be used for their bed that night.

She thought to herself that it was time she got a job and a place of her own. She just didn’t know doing what. While she graduated high school last June, she had been a poor student. She fancied herself an artist and didn’t want to waste too much of her time occupying her mind with things that were boring and that she would never use again. So she put as little effort as possible in getting good grades and learning and as her guidance counselor pointed out, she was not college material. She suggested Mia go to a business school and learn to type and perhaps she could be a secretary or do some type of office work. Boring! And not how she envisioned her life. Maybe she could get a job in art gallery or perhaps attend an art school. As Mia walked backed in to the kitchen, pondering her future, she momentarily forgot about her mother. It wasn’t until she heard her speak that she remembered they were in the same room.

“Your father is dead” Midge said plainly and matter-of-factly. “He died last January – one year ago. One full year ago”. That was it. Mia waited quietly, hoping that Midge would share the details, but her mother just picked up her can of beer and took a sip. Mia had so many questions but she learned early on that her mother only told her what she felt she was worthy to hear. She wouldn’t answer any questions and she wouldn’t volunteer information. Mia wanted to go to her mother and hug her, tell her that she loved her. She wanted to comfort Midge but as she looked at her mother sitting in the wobbly chair, beer in hand, elbows on the table, looking off into the distance, she knew that the only one who could reach her, who could console her, was dead. Midge and Mia never really had a typical loving mother-daughter relationship, still Mia wanted to take charge and tell her mother that everything would be ok. She wanted to walk to her and hold her. She wanted her mother to cry on her shoulder.

That night as Mia lay next to her mother on the kitchen floor with the oven door open, she knew it wouldn’t be ok. She was worried. She needed a job and she needed to branch out on her own. She needed to find her own identity and she desperately needed to tear herself away from her parents’ shadow. She also had an obligation and she needed to look after her mother. While she had never been close to her father, she felt empty at the loss. She had so many questions that she wanted answered. Mia wanted to shake her mother and demand that she fill her in on she was. Her life had always been solitary. While her parents never hit her or yelled at her they also never comforted her. They mostly ignored her and neglected her. Mia never knew cousins, or grandparents, or aunts and uncles. Her mother didn’t have close friends or anyone she confided in. There was no one who knew their history. The home was absent of happiness and laughter. There weren’t any fond memories of Christmas or birthdays in her home. The only time she saw joy in her mother’s eyes was when her father came by and now it seems as if that glimpse of happiness was gone forever. She wanted to scream for her loss. Life was cruel and unfair. Mia just wanted to feel alive. She wanted some acknowledgment that she mattered. Midge would never give her what she wanted. If she wanted answers she would have to find them herself.

Midge kept a journal in her room. The only way for Mia to get answers were to read that journal. She was nervous about entering Midge’s room but she was also determined. She gingerly stood and not wanting to wake her mother, stepped over her and walked toward the staircase. The house was cold and Mia tightened her arms around the sweater she was wearing as she climbed the stairs to Midge’s room. The room was off limits to Mia. It always had been. Other young girls were encouraged to go into their parent’s room and play dress up. They were encouraged to put on the high heels, smell the perfume and play with the makeup. It’s usually a bonding experience for mother and daughter, but not for Mia and her mom.

She stood at the door to her mother’s room for a full five minutes. She was afraid that her mother would catch her, she was afraid that she would lose her nerve but mostly she was afraid of what she would find in that journal and of being disappointed yet again. Hesitantly she turned the knob with sweaty palms, half expecting the door to be locked. She walked in and quietly closed the door behind her. Mia felt the wall for the light switch and flipped it on. There she stood while her eyes adjusted to the light. It had been years since Mia was in her mother’s room and it was not how she remembered. There was a musty stench. Long gone was the scent of Channel No. 5 wafting through the air, now it just smelled old. It reeked of old, unwashed clothes and old beer cans, and maybe vomit. The peeling wall paper, threadbare carpet, and a frayed bedspread did not speak of a room where lovers once met; it spoke of a room, like a life, of neglect. The bed itself was still beautiful. The wood was a deep mahogany and over the years it been well cared for.

Mia’s eyes immediately honed in on the journal. Midge kept it right next to the bed. Again, Mia was uncertain. It was an invasion of privacy. Reading it would be tantamount to seeing her mother naked. She would be stripped down to bare bones and unable to hide in that cloak of mystery that she wanted Mia to see. Maybe there were things in that journal that Mia should not see. Some things were better off not knowing. Mia vacillated between leaving that room as if she never entered and moving forward to find the answers to so many unasked questions. No time for cowardice, she thought. Mia took one deep breath, grabbed the journal, turned off the light and quickly exited her mother’s bedroom.

She took the steps two at a time, and ran down to the kitchen to check that her mother was still fast asleep. First she stopped by the front door and grabbed her winter coat, boots and gloves then just as quickly she ran to her bedroom. She slipped the items on and sat down on her bed to read what she hoped would be the story of her life.

As dawn approached and the cloudiness of yet another snowy, winter morning greeted her, Mia felt wretchedness like she had never known. She thought she had Midge all figured out. She realized that she didn’t know anything at all. Life is about choices and sometimes we choose well but other times we just keep making the same mistake over and over again. Sometimes we refuse to learn from past mistakes and we can’t be propelled into the future. Unless one truly knows what it’s like to be loved, one will never be able to give it. Midge, like Mia, was never loved. Mia guessed that in her own way Midge tried to be a good parent and tried to show Mia love but it was impossible. Midge was too young to be a mother and she was too inexperienced to be a lover of a married, older man, especially one of a different race. Midge was unprepared for the hatred and the ignorance that loving a white man would bring. She was ill-equipped to be a teenage, single parent raising a child alone without a support system.

Midge was the eldest of six children. Her parents were poor and worked very hard and they really did not have time for such frivolities as love and affection. They wanted all of their children to have better lives than they had. Midge was expected to finish high school and college. They often spoke of the sacrifices they made in order to fulfill this dream. They ruled with iron fists. When they found out that Midge was dating a well known, older white man they were livid. This man had a penchant for young black girls but he was outwardly racists and he treated Midge’s family and many other black people as if they were less than animals. He was very vocal in his thoughts concerning black men in particular. They were lazy and worthless and stupid and he wished that slavery were still around so that he could teach them who their masters were. He was mean; mean to his wife and children, mean to people who worked for him and mean to strangers. Midge’s parents could not understand how their daughter could shame them so. They could not understand how she could lay down with such a man. How could she claim to love someone with so much hatred in his heart?

Midge was beaten bloody by both of her parents and forbidden to ever see or speak with him again. But Midge was seventeen and in love. She did what many girls would do; she ran away. She thought that this man would leave his wife, marry her, and they would start a new life in a new place. She thought that they would run away together. She thought that this man loved her just as much if not more than she loved him. He set Midge up in an apartment in the next town over and when Mia was born he set Midge up in the house. Midge never spoke to or saw any of her family again. At first it was because she wanted to prove them wrong and when she came back she wanted to be a married woman. Then when Mia came along she was so ashamed because she was not married and she had not finished school and gone on to college. Her life was turning out just as her parents had predicted; she was just a mistress to a wealthy white man. She couldn’t face her family so she held on to the only thing that made sense and brought her peace. That was Mia’s father. She did whatever he asked of her. When Mia was school age he got her mother a job as a cleaning woman in his office building. There she would get glimpses of him during the day. She reasoned that it worked well for everyone because she had an income coming in and she was able to see her true love almost daily. Out of fear of being discovered by her family or being found to be the lover of her boss she made no close friends. She never dated or went out after work. She never shopped with girlfriends or even allowed Mia to make close friends who could be invited over. Mia guessed that by keeping her life a secret, Midge thought she was protecting Mia. She never thought about the harm this kind of life could bring and she never realized all that Mia was missing.

Midge had found out about her father’s death earlier that day. Two of his children came by because they wanted to sell the property. They explained that their father had died the previous year and had a lot of property that needed to be taken care of. They had their own families and really did not want the responsibility of becoming slum lords. They were going to sell all of the property they owned in this poor neighborhood and move on with their lives. They had no idea who Midge was or that Mia even existed. They just wanted the cash. Midge was beside herself. She just learned of the death of the only man that she had ever known and she was facing eviction and homelessness. She had no savings and no income. She had to explain who she was and she had to tell them about their sister, Mia. She explained that Mia was a mere child and that this was the only home that she had ever known. She begged them on hands and knees to let her stay. She told them that was what their father wanted. They asked if she could pay rent and of course she couldn’t. They explained that while their father may have had good intentions, he said nothing about Midge or Mia. He left everything to his legitimate children and if he had wanted Midge and Mia to continue to live in the house freely he would have stipulated it in his will. The children were adamant that Midge and Mia must leave their home. Midge begged and cried but to no avail.

As Mia lay down on the kitchen floor next to her mother, she was heartbroken and had no idea what they would do. She fleetingly thought that maybe now would be a good time for Midge to find her family. She was sure that they would welcome her after so many years away with open arms. She was sure that her aunts and uncles would want to know her and she was excited about the possibility of having cousins. Then reality set in and the realization that there was no way Midge would allow her family to see her the way she was – a poor , uneducated, alcoholic. Midge would be so angry that Mia had read her journal and she would be angrier that Mia would dare to come up with such a ridiculous idea. It was better that Mia kept her mouth shut.
When Midge finally awoke, the first thing she did was reach for a can of beer. How could Mia offer her mother help without revealing that she read the journal? She sat at the table drinking her coffee, contemplating how she would broach the subject of their future. Mia decided the best thing to do would be to get dressed and go out and get a job. She had little skills but she was sure that there was something that she could do. She told Midge of her plan and of course Midge kept quiet. She offered no words of encouragement. She acted as if Mia had not even spoken.

When Mia left she was determined that she would return with a job and a new lease on life. Maybe it was good that they were being forced to leave. Change was good she reasoned. Maybe Midge would see that life was not over and she could start anew. Mia left home knowing that she would have to stay with Midge for a few more years but she was excited about the possibilities. They could start fresh in a new town and Mia would learn a trade or go to college. She wanted both her and Midge to get what they so deserved and she wouldn’t let anything stop her.

That evening an ebullient Mia returned home. She was happy because she had accomplished her goal. She had obtained a job. She was a cleaning woman in one of the big office buildings downtown. While they would not be rich they would have some income coming in. It was a beginning and change was within their grasp. Mia walked through house until she found her mother sitting in the kitchen, right where she left her. Midge was drinking a beer, elbows on the table, staring straight ahead. Mia was so full of joy that she wanted to run to her mother and kiss her on the cheek and tell her about her day but she restrained herself. She was not accustomed to such outwardly displays of emotion. She sat at the table and told her mom about the new job. She explained that they could move into a place that wasn’t so shabby or expensive. She said that they could live in an apartment. Immediately, Midge looked up at Mia and said “move? Why would we have to move? This is our home and I am never leaving.” Mia remembered the journal and her father’s children demanding that they move. Of course she couldn’t mention these things without getting herself into trouble. She just looked at her mother and waited for an explanation. Had her mother finally broken down? Had the harsh realities of life gotten to her? Did she not know difference between reality and fiction? Had she chosen not to accept her fate?
Her mother didn’t say anything else. Mia sat at that table and waited. She waited for signs of insanity. She waited for her mother to delve further into their future plans. She waited for her mother to acknowledge her existence. She waited for two hours and when nothing happened she left the table; head bent, and walked quietly to her room and shut the door. In her room she decided that she would wait until they were evicted. She would be ready. She would pack her most prized possessions so that when the time came she could easily grab the bag. She sat down on her bed and waited.

Twenty years later, here she is, in the same shabby house and in the same bedroom, all alone. Just like she’d always known it would be. She sat up on the bed and looked around the room. The mahogany bed frame, the dresser and her paintings would be packed and put into storage. She thought about how her life had not changed in all these years. She thought about the job that she had for the last twenty years as a cleaning woman that was supposed to be temporary. She thought about the eviction that never came and she supposed that her siblings felt pity for her mother. She thought about Midge and her death and she finally understood. Life is what you make it. The choices you make and the roads you travel set the tone for your future. You don’t have to be what you your parents were. You can be loved and you can love and like yourself. This was a lesson that took a long time in coming.

Mia grabbed the suitcase that she packed so many years ago, took one last look at the room, and walked toward her future. With bus ticket in hand she was going to find life and love. Yesterday she mailed a letter to her mother’s people explaining who she was, her mother’s death and what kind of life her mother had lived since leaving home all those years ago. She hoped that one day, when she became settled, she would be able to reach out to them and show them that she was special and that she was worthy of love.