Mother never had a chance with him, a dry alcoholic, worse than when wet. His mind contrived to twist and convince and manipulate her into submission. His unrelenting oppression resulted in her subsequent depression.
We would see snippets of who she used to be or who she wanted to be but they were constantly stomped upon by his pestering.
His ideas became hers, but never sounded like hers.
In no way am I claiming she was innocent in all of this. She lacked the will to stand up to him... Perhaps conditioned by their 50 years together, rooted in a time when women didn't object.
When I think back now I can only feel sorry for her even though she was far from a loving and attentive mother. She had many demons to fight and little emotional energy left for children.
Any memory I hold of her, especially ones of her smiling feel oddly fake. As a young child I was attuned enough to recognize her smiles as forced and unconvincing.
And now she is gone
And he sits alone
I do not speak to him very often Because I have nothing to say. His influence lingers deep and I hate that part of me.
He used to call but thankfully no more. He offers no apology for the way he is, and I am smart enough to not trust him with anything concerning the way things were. I have no desire to encourage more abuse.
I only wish that for my mother’s sake that he were the one to go first. Perhaps allowing her a little freedom from a lifetime of him.
On a recent and rare call he told me he still speaks to her as if she’s there.