This photo shows my mother and I as I was cutting my “wedding cake.” Although it wasn’t exactly what I would describe as a wedding. I was married at a judge’s house while a model train did circles on a track in his living room. I look at this photo and remember the time when mother and dad told me, “You got yourself into this mess, now ya gotta marry him.”
I gave away my innocence to a guy who took it with pleasure and pain. I was too naïve and young enough to know better. As an underage teenager, Illinois law required that one my parents needed to sign the documents allowing the marriage to happen. Dad wasn’t going to do it and Mother couldn’t wait.
My sister Cindy was twelve at the time and lived in a much different world than I . At some point during the 1980’s, I stopped all communication with her. The only exceptions were at the funerals of our parents. Fast forward to 2015, some twenty five plus years later and she has discovered Facebook. She started commenting on my posts as if nothing had ever happened. At first glance, I thought, “What the hell. She just shows up on my feed commenting about the above photo, “Aww sweet memories.”
Then I giggle, because it really didn’t matter how she felt about a photo taken in 1977. She had a much different relationship with mother than I did. She was a little kid and her perception of sweetness once left only bitterness in my mouth.
Perception is what that particular person sees at that exact moment. The past is full of memories that come and go like the waves in the ocean. There is no need to worry over something that was a few lifetimes ago. Living life today matters most to me and I am happy to leave her with her sweet memories.
Do you have a story that is much different than your siblings version? Do tell.