Pain and Loss

      Looking back, from the time I could remember,  I always thought of myself as the odd girl out.  Where ever or what ever I did, pain and loss followed me. It didn’t matter, I  could be hanging cloths outback on the line, cleaning the house, washing dishes, or getting dressed to go somewhere.  None the less pain and loss were eagerly tauntingly and seemingly waiting for me. I was four when pain first showed his gentle knowing face. He was dressed with the appearance of my comforting strong father. Anyone knowing me, knew I was quite the daddy’s girl.  I loved him so very much.  Never leaving space to spare, you could bet that I would always be one step behind him, my one and only hero…until that day.
                “ Mama went to the grocery store and daddy was inside pulling up carpet. God! I can still smell the wet mildew in that old green carpet.  It must have been in that trailer for years. It was so hot that day and the boys wouldn’t let me play with them, so daddy said I could help him, he said, “I was his lil helper”.  I was so proud that it was me he chose…until he said come here…let’s go in daddy’s room. At first I was happy…maybe daddy was going to give me a surprise…boy did he….it was a surprise I would never forget……PAIN….being touched in places no four year old girl should ever feel…and…LOSS….my hero died…
        DADDY! PLEASE ....I DON'T LIKE IT....shhhh daddy said, with an odd wiggle in his voice. "This is our lil secret" Tears ran down my face, " I DON'T WANT A SECRET". God! Please! if you can hear my whispered prayer, MAKE HIM STOP!
I'm not so sure God ever heard my breathless cry. Maybe I was supposed to pray aloud,I don't know.  Anyway, Daddy's lil secret lasted for years, as did the cancer that ate away his liver and the guilt that tortured his prayers.  Daddy begged for my forgiveness in his dying days, as heartless as it may sound. I didn't accept.  Does that make me as bad as him? Maybe, but heres my thought, all those nights I spent shaking uncontrolably, vomiting perfusely, the hot and cold sweats. I guess the way I looked at it was that we're even.  It's his turn to live in hell.