I think from the time I picked up a pencil I knew what my passion felt like but could not put into words what I was feeling at such a young age. So life went on. However, there was 3 words that followed me…
Romeo and Juliette.
I recall at a very young age, writing those 3 words on my bedsheets at night as I went into a fantasy world, in the dark, on the top bunk, in a little room off the kitchen in a house that grandma lived. By the way where was grandma living when we lived in her big old house? And where was Dad working that kept him away for weeks at a time? And why did cousin Lynn live with us and why was it her putting us to bed at night instead of Mom? Having 10 children can’t make a Mom that tired..can it? Those thoughts brought tears to my eyes. I needed to see my Mom!..Mom! Mom! I whispered out loud. The bedroom door slowly opened, I could see her silouette with the dim kitchen light behind her. What is the matter? Without coming closer, I knew it was Lynn’s voice..not Mom. I told her I wanted my Mom. No, she said, go to sleep, your Mom is tired!..as she slowly brought the room back into darkness by shutting out the dim kitchen light with shutting the door.
Quietly sobbing I went back to tracing out each letter written in lead on my bedsheet..Romeo and Juliette. Then I started to think with anger, I hated my Mom! Why couldn’t she come kiss and hug me good night!? It wouldn’t of taken long. I needed to talk to my Mom! I needed to ask her about Romeo and Juliette!
I knew how to get her to listen to me. I am going to write 3 other words on my bed sheet and she will see it when she does the laundry. I wrote the 3 words, tracing them over and over with hurt and angry feelings, till the lead tip broke on my pencil! I began to doze off with my head on my tear stained pillow..reading those 3 words in my head then with a quiet whisper and a sigh…I read them one last time… I hate Mom….before my thoughts were overcome by the darkness of the room and the heaviness of my eye lids from crying…I hate Mom