In this kitchen,
they didn't cook up
many dreams.
Bottomless rye and Cokes
but not many meals.
In this kitchen,
I closed off
my heart
from my father.
In this kitchen,
I practiced numbness
as a means of survival.
In this kitchen
my heart felt as cold
as the stove
and the unheated walls.
When my dad died
and we moved out,
I pointed my nose firmly
in the direction of hope
on the map of
Heading Out.
for Carrie's Sunday Muse. I remember that four room hovel, where the only heat was from the oil stove, and where some of the worst scenes from my childhood played out.
They say that such a beginning either creates a very cruel or very kind adult. Either way, it changes us.
ReplyDeleteI cannot imagine growing up like that... my father had many faults.. but nothing like this...
ReplyDeleteYour past has made you into a compassionate and caring person. I know it was hard for you, those endless rye and cokes. But I am thankful you turned into the person you are today.
ReplyDeleteEscaping a hard childhood eh Sherry? The image plays well into that interpretation.
ReplyDeleteSad memories of an unhappy childhood are so hard to erase . .
ReplyDeleteIncredibly revealing, strong, brave, YOU! Hope you got a bit of that sunshine.
ReplyDeleteSometimes it is best to head out and leave the past behind. You did that well, my friend. You are a survivor. I think oftentimes what you might have done if you had been allowed more opportunity to thrive and make use of your abundant abilities.
ReplyDelete