Sunday, December 11, 2016

Penance

Say four Hail Marys and an Our Father, sin no more. If only it were that simple. As if that small act of penance would be the marantha of life. Penance is like Chinese water torture one endless drip day after day. One intake of breath, one forgive me to the unknown gods. The hope that small acts of kindness will ward off the retribution of the gods, for all of the selfishness and simple blindness to the world.

At the end, Mom was racked with remorse and anger for the slights and sins of the past. For the many indignities suffered from being poor and Irish, the imagined guilt of not loving her children enough, of always feeling that she didn't belong and would be found out as aspiring above her station. She was so angry and so conflicted about being angry, somehow anger was a sin that was not on the forgivable list.

This journey that I have started has awakened old demons that I had hoped were long buried. I am leaving the life I have truly loved. The place where I could invite friends and share meals and laughs. A place where hospitality could be practiced. A home where when I turned into the neighborhood, my soul was happy. It is over and I am angry. I want to destroy every trace of that life. I was pretending that it could last so I turned a blind eye to what would destroy my safety. I let it happen and now it is time to pay the piper.

I know in the back of my brain that I am leaving. I am building a safe zone for myself where I can retreat and lick my wounds and figure out who I am. I can't end up like Mom, alone and angry. I have had a taste to happiness. But I know I have to find it for myself now. I have to stop relying on someone else opening the doors. The price is too high.

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