Dad being sick as I entered adolescence created a strange feeling. Being sure of myself, my mouth found a lot of trouble. My mother often heard the sassing since we were often alone with Dad being in the hospital. Our feelings were taunt, ready to spring into orbit. Mom more likely worried what she would do without a husband that provided well, as well as loved her exorbitantly. She truly depended on him. No driving, no job skills had been needed when she married him.
I was a self absorbed pre-teen scratching my way to significance. One morning, on a leave from the hospital, the three of us sat at the kitchen table after breakfast. Mom probably asked me to do the dishes, which I already knew I was going to do. My mouth opened fire as I sauntered to the sink. Out of the side of my eye, I glanced Dad attempting to get up, in the old days to slap my mouth, but he suddenly sat back down. With the headaches he got, he must have been dizzy. I'm telling you, just seeing that gesture made me realize I had overstep the bonds of my status. I was still the child.
I tried to tow the line, as they say, but that mouth often blurted out words, attitudes and sarcasm. Sometimes the mood came over me like a little storm cloud and I had no umbrella to shield myself from those feelings. And saying,"I'm sorry." was so hard, like Mom would make me feel guilty all over again.
Then other times, we could get along comfortably like when I was younger. As I was reaching for teen hood, I still got dolls in sixth grade Christmas. Thumbelina, my last baby doll, didn't wear out. She was sweet, but not in my heart as all my other dolls. I think I also got a Barbie doll, too.
I'm sure having my dad gone a lot didn't help this brooding, groping dance to adulthood. I so wanted to be grown-up and important. Sometimes, don't you wish you could go back and say, "Relax." I know I want to smooth some girls in this similar stage, now. I feel for some girls who have to grow up more quickly today than I ever did. I was still protected by loving parents; the TV and culture didn't shout,"Be this, be sexy, be adult."
Sometimes, I seem quiet, I don't speak up, but I had learned self control. Lately, in this stage of my life, I think I act like that 11-12 year old, blurting out mean things to the drivers in other cars, or after I hang up the phone. I wonder what happened to self control and pray for it more. Life is a journey of peaks and valleys.