Friday Fictioneers is a 100-word flash fiction challenge with a photo prompt. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, manages to keep us in line and encourage endless creativity. Check out other stories and how to join, on her blog, Addicted to Purple.
Two weeks in a row, rusted metal… it takes me many places, but this week I was ambushed. I apologize that I’ve been unable to visit as many blogs as I’d like. I’m still catching up, after 8+ weeks away! As always, I welcome honest, constructive feedback. Please leave a comment and tell me what you think.
An Extra Word For Mom
It’s never been easy with you; so I step delicately around the things I want to ask you, and watch you recoil and spring.
“You’re too sensitive,” you say, as tears spring to my eyes.
That’s a lie. I am a sensitive person. It’s not a bad thing; it’s who I am.
“You’ve always been over-sensitive and too defensive.”
I’m defensive when threatened; don’t attack.
Just tell me why––
“Your dad didn’t take care of us,”
That’s a lie. I stand taller.
“I had no choice…”
That’s a lie too.
It’s diamonds and rust with you.
“I did my best.”
That’s the truth.
“I loved you.”
I loved you too. Happy birthday mom.
It doesn’t matter that you’re gone four years now; we argue on in my head.
(101 words)
Carole J. Quyle September 16, 1943- December 31, 2011, whose eyes were “bluer than robin’s eggs.”
* * *
Help Me Reach My Goals! I’d love to see the Tales From the Motherland Facebook page reach 800 likes in 2015. Have you stopped by to spread some fairy dust? Follow me on Twitter, LeBron James does! Most importantly, if you like a post I’ve written, hit Like and leave a comment. I love to hear what readers think. Honest, positive or constructive feedback is always welcome. Click Follow; you’ll get each new post delivered by email, no spam. ©2015 Please note, that all content and images on this site are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless specifically noted otherwise. If you want to share my work, please give proper credit. Plagiarism sucks.
I still argue with my Dad in my head, too, Dawn. And I also got the “You’re too sensitive.” That one seemed to hurt the most.
Your one hundred and one words so very articulately describe a complicated relationship. And also one where love resides. Beautifully done, dear friend!
Cathy
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much Cathy. This was a hard one. Not fiction, per se, but hard to construct. I really appreciate your kind feedback.
LikeLike
Do you always get the last word? Realistic dialog, for sure. You do dialog so well. Congratulations again on your newest arrival.
LikeLiked by 1 person
No, I don’t… but I guess I do try! And, it’s my story. 😉 Thanks so much Steph!
LikeLike
I used to tell my ex he was too sensitive. Oops, I almost felt guilty about that. Not this time!
LikeLiked by 1 person
There is a time and a place… and from what you’ve written, I’m sure you’re timing was good, Dawn. 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Dawn…didn’t mean to make your story about me! lol
LikeLike
You didn’t! I love your comments, Dawn. (see, how I just did that, again?)
LikeLiked by 1 person
I realize you put your heart and soul into this one, Dawn. So well written. I remember the picture of you mom. She was a beautiful woman. I was too sensitive when I was young, but I got over it when I started working in an office. My boss was a Type A personality and critical. I toughtened up to survive. I know how hard it can be. I got another job, and that first boss died about a year later of a heart attack.. I had predicted it to my mother.
LikeLike
Thanks for sharing, Suzanne. You always have such interesting connections to make. I appreciate you taking the time.
LikeLike
Sometimes the slights never go away. Nicely written – with feeling.
LikeLike
Thanks Patrick. They soften, right? It’s funny how anniversaries can set us thinking… thanks for sharing your feedback.
LikeLike
Dear Dawn,
Where’s the ‘love’ icon? The last line was a beautiful clincher. Your mother sounds like mine. “You wear your heart on your sleeve.” She used to tell me. And even though she’s been gone 34 years I still have arguments with her in my head. See what you did there? Wonderfully constructed piece.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Rochelle. You and I have probably been through a lot of sleeves! 😉 I really appreciate your thoughtful feedback. Have a wonderful weekend!
LikeLike
Gorgeous. So evocative and fitting of that strange photo. I love this.
And yes, we argue on in our heads. We tell good news, too. Or just retell the old stories. Hope you manage some of each as time passes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I do manage both… but it’s been a bit harder over the past few months. Some days are softer than others. Thanks so much for this very kind feedback, Jen; it means so much. xox
LikeLike
We Moms, do our best.
LikeLiked by 1 person
We do indeed. Thanks Tracey.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You expertly convey the complex relationship and emotions. Nicely done!
LikeLike
Thanks so much and welcome to Tales From the Motherland! I appreciate your kind comment and your time.
🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dawn- I love the words from your tender heart. Do we all share the same mothers? Same families? Same words that carry this weight? My professional friend with her MSW,LMFC (code for my therapist) says it’s the same voice you play over and over in your head- the “IBSC” always sitting right there on your shoulder! and to ask God “please don’t let anybody should on me today and don’t let me should on anybody” will we ever make peace with this voice- or at least understand truly how hurt people -hurt people. ESP mothers and daughters. It’s truly a tender trap. Thank you for your your honesty.
LikeLike
Powerful words, Lori; thank you so much for sharing them. I love that: “hurt people, hurt people.” Wow.
Yes, it is such a challenging relationship! I continue to navigate (blindly at times), even now that my mom is gone. I work hard to heal some of it, so that my daughter and I can have a better relationship. It’s a huge balancing act!
Thanks for visiting Tales From the Motherland, and for sharing your thoughtful feedback. It’s much appreciated!
LikeLike
Years ago at a funeral the minister said something profound that I found helpful and comforting: death does end a relationship, but it does change it. I have found that so useful for continuing to resolve issues and connect with those I have lost. I guess you do too. Welcome back!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I do indeed! Thanks so much for sharing that, Heidi; they are wise words. (I’m assuming you meant: death does NOT end a relationship, but does change it?)
thanks!
LikeLike
Oops! You are right, in my haste I left out a word.
LikeLiked by 1 person
“You’re dad” seems problematic?
Good piece.
LikeLike
Good eye, Mick; thanks! I hate when I miss stupid typos like that… caught up in the emotion. I appreciate your feedback and help. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
The relationship between mother and off-spring is a complex affair that continues long after death in some shape or form. I think I said more to my mother (but only in my head) when she was alive than I have since. But I’ve come to understand why she was the way she was. Nicely done – I’m hoping you’re coming to terms with this.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know exactly what you mean, Sandra. It’s so true… I said so much more in my head then too! And yes, I’m working through some very challenging issues, and feeling better. It’s not pretty, but I’m on it. 😉 Thanks, as always, for your thoughtful feedback; I always look forward to your words.
LikeLike
Great story. The dialogue and inner voice are perfect, as is the song selection. I’d forgotten how that song can cut into my heart.
LikeLike
Thanks so much, Jan. Your comments always pack a punch, and this one is no exception. I so appreciate your lovely feedback. 🙂
LikeLike
Dear Dawn,
Last line perfect in a perfect story. Very deep into it now, I scratch and claw my way out to write this. Well done pulling me in.
Aloha,
Doug
LikeLike
Wow! Doug, you sure know how to make a gal feel good! Thanks so much for your very kind words. I’m just happy to see you back, and here… but this comment has made my day! Mahalo, Dawn
LikeLike
Just beautiful 🙂
LikeLike
Thanks so much Helen; I really appreciated that. 🙂
LikeLike
This is wonderful. Like many, I still argue with my parents who’re both gone. The older I get, the better I understand them. When I’m their age, I wonder if the conversation changes to a ‘I told you so.’
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nicely done, Dawn, especially if torn from real life. Fortunately, my parents are both still alive and I get along with them. I do love that song, BTW.
janet
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Janet; that song is one of my very favorite, and yes… torn from life. You are so fortunate; I would so love to have had things be that way, but alas… Thanks again!
LikeLike
My wife has similar arguments with both our son and daughter (except for the Dad part :)). That sensitivity thing runs both ways–sometimes it’s the child, sometimes the parent. Like Doug said, you did and excellent job pulling us in. You did a magnificent job capturing the emotion.
I love that song too.
LikeLike
Thanks so much Russell; you are too kind. Your feedback really means a lot. 😉
LikeLike
This one did touch a raw nerve. Why do mother-daughter relationships have to be so complex? You would have thought being the same sex, they would understand each other. I don’t have a daughter so I don’t have the mother’s POV. I guess it must be hard for mothers to bring up daughters who challenge them 🙂
LikeLike
Justjoyfulness, thanks for stopping by Tales From the Motherland, to read and comment. Your time and thoughts are much appreciated. I have to agree that there is something in the water, when it comes to mothers and daughters… though my sons might tell you the same thing.
😉 Parenting…it’s just hard, complex, brilliant. A friend recently said: hurt people, hurt people. Wow! That’s so true. Thanks again for taking the time.
LikeLike
Your sons say that? I thought my brothers were treated more nicely by our Mum. But then it might just have been my crooked perspective 🙂 So right about hurt people, I used to think that about bullies, until I read Louise Hay’s book and realised everyone, including my parents, are hurt people. That put life in a totally new perspective.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Indeed it does! Few people get through life without some baggage and scars… even the happy ones. 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
True.
LikeLike
Seems the mother is resting in peace but the child is not if he/she is still arguing with her in his mind. Great story!
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s an interesting thought, Priceless Joy. I guess we can’t really know how the mother’s resting… there was a lot to untangle, for both! I appreciate your comment; thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re absolutely right Dawn, I don’t know the mother is resting in peace.
LikeLiked by 1 person
None of us know… a lot of things. Still, I appreciate the thought. It may be true. 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Dawn!
LikeLike
exactly 101 words. which word was for mom? 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Good point Plaridel! Nice to see you back… though, you may have been here, and I was gone. 😉
LikeLike
I love that you still argue with your mom in your head. That’s love all right. This is wonderful, Dawn! Your mom would be pleased.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Honestly, it would probably bug the shit out of her… but I love your optimism, Amy! Love it. xox
LikeLiked by 1 person
That was a lovely piece for your Mum. It is lovely that you still include your Mum in your self talk to the point that you argue about this and that. A lovely piece Dawn.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I probably do more talking in my head than I want to admit, but honestly, I did write this as a story… the conversation played out on my keyboard. 😉 But thanks for the lovely feedback, Irene; it’s much appreciated!
LikeLiked by 1 person