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Mom stirs, dragging me out of my thoughts.
“Honey is that you?” she croaks, her voice barely audible, weak like the person she’s become. I hate that she has made me feel so bitter towards her. I shouldn’t blame her. She was so in love with my dad. That all-consuming type love. He was her life. Then one day he decided he didn’t love her anymore, Leaving mom heartbroken.
Anger courses through me at the thought, I take a deep breath to calm myself. “Yeah, Mom, it’s me. Let’s get you a shower, then into bed.” She mumbles something unintelligible, as I help her sit up. It takes her a few seconds to steady herswaying body as I hold her. She opens her eyes, tears fall from them, down her face, my chest tightens at the sight.
“I’m sorry for being this way, baby.” she sobs, and it breaks another little piece of me, making me feel guilty for my earlier thoughts. I rub her back in a soothing motion, trying to calm her.
“Ssshhh, it’s okay, Momma. Everything will be okay.” But even as I say the words, I know I am lying to myself. Things have not been okay for a long time now and I cannot see that changing.
My cell vibrates in my pocket. Pulling my hand from my mom’s back, I fish it out. My best friend Piper’s name flashes on the screen—she is the only person who knows what I am going through with my mom. The only person who knows everything and I have for support. I don’t think I would have been able to cope if it weren’t for her. I decline the call, dropping my cell on the coffee table and make a mental note to call her later.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” I pull her to a stand, holding her fragile, unstable body as if she is going to break. Tears prick my eyes thinking about who my mom once was. She was beautiful - still is in a broken way.
Back when she was eighteen, she became Miss California, had everything going for her. But eversinceheleft……. Well let’s just say, there is barely anything left of her, thanks to the alcohol and pills. Her appearance is haggard, skin sallow, hair brittle and unkempt.
I clench my jaw in frustration. I wish she would get better; wish she would realize thatheis not worth all this. More than anything I wish she could be there for me in the way she is supposed to. Glancing at my broken mom, I instantly hate my selfish thoughts. But then I remember it’s my truth and sometimes the truth is ugly.
A few minutes later, I manage to get her up the stairs and in the bathroom. I’m not a big girl by any means, but mom isnow pretty much skin and bones, so I don’t struggle to much getting her up the stairs. I strip her out of her clothes while she drunkenly mumbles - bits I hear, bits I miss- but what I do hear has my blood boiling.
“I will get better, honey. It’s just hard right now with your dad leaving,” she slurs the same thing she tells me every time this happens. I resist shouting at her, but all I want to do is screamthathehas been gone for two years, and she is worse. Not better. It wouldn’t do me any good though, so I leave it.
Twenty minutes later, I have her showered, changed and in her bed. She passes out as soon as I lay her down. I sigh as I leave her room, exhausted and hungry. Heading downstairs, I tidy up the mess my mother left behind. If I didn’t, it would be left, and I refuse to live in a shit hole.
After I finish the cleaning, I search through the cupboards, finding some ramen noodles for my dinner, which I quickly prepare and eat. I will need to go shopping tomorrow, get some decent food in but for now these will have to do.
When I’m done, I make my way to my room. Hopping on my bed, I lay down and stare at the ceiling. Thoughts race through my mind. How did we get here? Why did he leave? Were we not good enough? It’s a vicious cycle. One that’s left me with an addict mother who cannot let go of a man who no longer wants her.
My thoughts drift tohim.He was a good father up until he left. We were a family. A happy one at that. I was a bit of a daddy’s girl. Mom worked shifts at the hospital, so my time was spent with my father. When I told him I wanted to dance,Hewas the one who found me a dance school and took me to classes. When I knew I loved cupcakes,Hewould make sure we had them every Friday.
And now? Now, I cannot remember the lasttimehecalled to check in on me.Hethinks sending a monthly check is enough,thinks by doing that it makes him a father. I wonderhow hewould feel if he knew how things had turned out, knew I was failing school. Would he come back and help?
I snort bitterly. He can’t even call because he is too busy, so I doubt he gives a second thought about me or my life.Heis too caught up in his trophy girlfriend, his new life in California.
A stray tear rolls down my cheek. I swipe at it furiously.Hedoesn’t deserve my tears. Closing my eyes, I pray.
Pray for the day things change, for mom to get better and for that day to come sooner rather than later.
Eden – Age 18
So much for praying for things to get better.
To say things got worse would be an understatement. And now I am alone in a bar, doing the one thing I swore I wouldn’t do. Getting drunk. I sit glaring at my drink as anger from the whole situation threatens to consume me. A laugh bubbles out of me, but its humorless. I pick up my drink, necking the entire thing just to help me forget.
I glance around taking in my surroundings. The bar is chic, it overlooks the pretty California beaches and Pacific Ocean. Any other time, I would appreciate the beauty of this spot, but as I sit here, underage with my fake ID, I can’t help but hate the place. Hate Orange County and that I was forced to come here.
I don’t usually drink. Have never been drunk. But I was now on my third vodka cranberry, and I didn’t even care. Today I need it. Need to forget all the shit, the life I left behind and everything I have known for the last eighteen years. There is a silver lining though, one that makes it a bit easier to relocate. My best friend Piper accepted into Beaumont College, and would be living only an hour away.
My mom was a good mom, once upon a time. Before my father left and everything went to shit, at least. Ironically, he isno longer with the women he left mom for. Traded her in for anevenyounger model. I would laugh at what a living, breathing cliché the man is if he hadn’t turned my world upside down.
Hedecided to come visit me for the first time in six years. Visit is a little farfetched. Whathecame for was to announce his engagement to a woman he had been dating for the last eight months. I say woman, but she is closer to my age than his.
During his visit, he found out I wouldn’t be graduating high school. He wasn’t happy.
You see, dear old Dad is the Dean of a prestigious private high school in California. The embarrassment of people finding out his only daughter would not be getting her high school diploma is something he didn’t want to suffer. It took him all of a few hours to realize something was up and a few minutes to start throwing his weight around. I frown as I replay his words from that day in my head.
“Jesus, Eden, why didn’t you tell me it had gotten this bad? She is not capable of looking after herself, let alone you,”he had boomed.“And to let you miss so much school. What about college? It won’t be an option without a high school diploma? I’m so angry. It is preposterous. Humiliating.”I had let out a humorless laugh at his audacity and then let loose.
“If you actually checked in more than once every couple of years, then maybe I would have been able to talk to you. You left us. We are fine without you. I can take care of the both of us just fine.”I screamed back at him.
