An Incest Legacy

                                                                                                  An Incest Legacy


          I learned at a very early age that my mother was not my protector.  In fact, she turned out to be one of my biggest adversaries.

          Her needs came first, regardless of her children. We were discouraged from having friends. No one was welcome at our home because of all the secrets.  When my sister and I were about 8 and 10, we learned how to cook all the meals.  I learned how to iron my father's shirts.  We did the sweeping, the vacuuming, the bathrooms. 

          The only time I remember being, actually, happy was when both parents were out of the house.  Our babysitter was an older woman who spent her time, sitting in a car in front of our house with her boyfriend. So, the house was ours, no fear.

          I was criticized for my clothes, she never bought any for us.  But her wardrobe was outstanding. My sister and I would go into her closet and sneak clothes into the outside laundry room so we wouldn't have to wear the same outfit to school every day.

          My information about intercourse came from the many men that came and went through her windows.  When I became eighteen, my mother would ask me to go to clubs with her.  Still seeking some sort of approval, I, gladly, said yes.  Took me a couple of months before I realized she was using me as bait.  When men would come over to the table, she would signal one of them and disappear for about an hour.  It took a return trip to a class reunion to learn more truths.  At thirty years of age, I was told she used to "talk" with most of the football players at my old high school.  That explained why someone would ask me out for a date, drive directly to a secluded place and expect me to "put-out".

          As children, we would hear her come home from the local country club, drinking, of course, hear the man's voice she'd brought home with her and, finally, the squeaking of the daybed in our den.  My father would come home later, even more drunk.  It was a ritual. Lots of parties, bother parents drinking, being stupid.  We would be very quiet in our rooms, hoping they would forget we were here when the fighting turned rough.

          Her sex educational talk for me was to get a tall bathroom cabinet to store my sanity needs when I was about thirteen.  After she installed my new cabinet, my sister told me why I was bleeding.

          When I had sex for the first time, it was in the back seat of a car.  I didn't know that was being done to me.  It scared me to death, I thought I was dying.

          You might wonder where my father was in all this.  Mostly he was working and drinking.  I uncovered more painful memories later that explained why he, too, had secrets.  My mother was, totally, oblivious to her children, especially me as a growing girl. I became her competition.  I wasn't the only child she used/ignored.  She always told people her age was 10-15 years less than the actuality. When my oldest brother was killed, she explained he was only her stepson

          At the end of her life, she was feeble and attached to an oxygen tank.  My two brothers had nothing to do with her. She wouldn't let my sister visit her because she was frightened of her.  I was her only child that had contact with her and I was with her when she died.

          Do I now know she exhibited victim behavior?  Yes.  Her upbringing was as traumatic as mine.  Her mother couldn't be bothered with her children and her brothers molested her as a child.  Then she got pregnant and married my father, a man who thought he owned her and could do whatever he liked.

          So, I suppose that excuses her choices, but it doesn't undo the damage she caused.  Before she died, we came together.  I forgave her for everything.  But I didn't love her.  I felt sorry for her.  But my last words to her was "I love you".  I don't think she knew I was lying.  After her death, I was able to look at the facts of her life and mine and be analytical. The huge bubble of pain and resentfulness connected with her were gone.  I am so thankful for that.  I hope she now has peace.

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