I shoulder their pain and sometimes I can’t rid myself of their sadness, now my sadness, as I ask: why her, why him, why, just why? I become every sister and every mother and every daughter. I feel like I’m looking back at those Christmas trees piled up, hopeless, helpless, in despair, just watching the decay. Like the trees, these people never had a say in being chosen by some circumstance, by fate, by God, for some reason we will never understand, to be killed by a drunk driver, stricken with cancer, or changed through injury or disease.
The men in the video acted offensively, no doubt, and their words assaulted the actress on an emotional and psychological level. But to me, they were more than that, they were threatening. Did men see that?
To say the relationship with my father was complicated is to presume that there was a relationship. At the time of his death, I hadn’t spoken to my father in twelve years. I would publicly and loudly announce that was a damn fine start.
My parents were horrific to me. I wasn't much better to myself. I had to learn a lot. I also couldn't forgive myself, if I didn't forgive them. Forgiveness is not about giving a pass. Forgiveness is about humanity.
You get to have it. You deserve it. Those compliments that make you feel real, feel beautiful?—You get them. You get to feel beautiful—you are beautiful—and you should be with the person who makes you feel that way, who makes you feel safe, who makes you hold your head higher, who makes you feel sexy—you are sexy—who you want to touch and be touched by, who you can talk to about how and when you touch each other, who you can talk to about anything, who you connect with, who you long for.
I asked her, “How does it feel to be 100 years old?” She took my wrist with her bony hand and in the high pitched voiced she now possesses due to her aging voice box she said, “I feel the same inside as I did when I was a little girl.” I nod. I understand.
