Serpent’s Nest
Unhappiness is when you realize that no matter how much you love your children, no matter how much you try, there is no way you can make them love you if they think you are filled with malice. Kelly accused me of malice this morning because this past week he had gone to Ronkonoma to bring his motorcycle back from the mechanic. At about six o’clock he called to tell me he was stuck in traffic. The poor dogs were squirming because they needed to go. I can hardly balance myself, so I got a bit annoyed. He couldn’t have told me when he was stuck in the train more than an hour prior? I asked him why he had not said something earlier.
‘It’s all about you, Mum! It’s all about you!’ He replied with anger. It was not all about me. It was all about the poor dogs. I had no one to walk them, so I attached their leashes to each end of my walker and we trundled off. They were very good. They walked slowly to accommodate me. They stopped when I needed to rest. They were so considerate. I will not mention the effort it took and the pain it caused. When I got back, my back was a sheet of burning fire. I took a painkiller and sat down a bit. He came in right after we returned. He went straight to the bathroom downstairs as soon as he came in. A short while later, I needed to go as well. It was soiled. I climbed upstairs and used my bathroom. I went downstairs again and scrubbed the toilet bowl clean. I have a habit of leaving the brush in for it to drip in there. That is what I did.
That day, I had prepared a dish of tebbit made with feet and the stomach of beef. I had also made a salad to go with it. I set the table for him. He went to take a shower then sat down to eat. First thing he said was, ‘This is hot! I cannot eat it so hot.’ He waited for it to cool and ate, with no word of appreciation. I washed the dishes and went upstairs. I went into the bathroom to make sure that he had sponged the walls and shook the shower curtains dry. He hadn’t. He also had gone to the toilet. That too was soiled as the one downstairs was. I realized he was tired so I said nothing. I tidied up the bathroom and washed the bowl just like I did the bathroom downstairs. I then went to watch TV in the room next to mine. The dogs settled in their usual places in my room for the night.
It must have been just before ten. I was engrossed in my program. Suddenly I heard a loud bang in my bedroom. The dogs jumped. I jumped. He had flung the toilet brush in my bedroom! I got so mad! I walked into the bathroom yelling at him angrily. He was sitting on the toilet. I handed him the brush, going on about his behavior. I was shaking with frustration and the unfairness of it all. I went back to watching TV, but I was sobbing. ‘What had I ever done to constantly take this abuse?’ I wish I would die already. All I get is the brunt of his seething resentment. I got up and went back to his room. His lights were off. I put them back on sobbing. I continued berating him. I was sobbing and shaking. I went downstairs and got a cup of tea, all the time crying, crying, crying… I came back upstairs and tried to watch TV again, but my tears were like hot melted wax pouring down my cheeks. I do not want to live like this. I feel as if I had raised serpents next to my heart. They have nothing nice to say to me. Where had I gone wrong? I was the one who raised them and loved them. I did not abandon them as their father did.
Today is a Sunday and it is also a week before Rosh Hashanah. I had asked him earlier to take me to visit Peter’s grave. I reminded him again last night. This morning I called him as he was at the park to ask him to get me some barbari bread. He walked in empty-handed. His face looked like a dark storm cloud.
‘You did not get the bread?’ I asked,
‘I am not feeling well! You are full of malice. You put that toilet brush in the bowl on purpose so that I would sit on it in the dark,’ he accused me.
With this kind of greeting, I could only imagine what the drive to the cemetery would be like.
Peter, forgive me for not coming to visit you today. I do not have the strength for this kind of behavior. I am getting weaker and more tired and want to live however much time I have on this earth in peace. I do not want to be treated this way all the time. I want to hear happy voices greeting me, not anger and resentment all the time. Not one hello. Not one goodbye. Not one, ‘I love you, Mum.’ Oh, what I would give just to have you by my side again, Peter. What I would give for a kind word.
Oh, what I would give to be with you again.