Serenity’s Soul
January 22, 2010
Dear Serenity’s Soul,
I know a couple of days have gone by, and I haven’t told you anything…but I haven’t forgotten about you. Before I leave this place, and before I try to search for who I really am, I need someone. I need my mother. I know she’s messed up, but not all of her is. Somewhere in her is the truth, and somewhere in her is the ability to tell it. I need her to be with me; to perhaps guide me in a certain direction. I went looking for her on the street, and when I found her she was hesitant to speak to me.
“Mama?”
She was talking to some other women when she suddenly turned around to look at me. She heard the name Mama and she actually turned around. I thought she had forgotten all of who she was, but somewhere in her she remembered the name “Mama.”
“Monica?”
“Yeah. I need to talk to you.”
She paused for a minute. “I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t? You talked to me when you needed money and I barely had any to give you. You talked to me then.”
This was quickly heading in a terrible direction.
“What I mean is, go away Monica! This street is nowhere for you to be.”
“And it is for you?”
“Look, if you came to start trouble, then just leave. I think it’s obvious that I don’t need more trouble.”
“What I came here for is to tell you that I am leaving.”
To my surprise, there was a certain sadness in her eyes.
“Leaving? Where?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
“Tell you what, Monica?”
“Tell me where I’m going. You can do that by telling me where you think my father may be.”
“Don’t do this.”
“You know what, Mom, you’re not getting out of this easily. You’re going to have to face me like I have to face you, and together we have to face life the way that it is. I need your help, and I need it now. I am not just some person on the street talking to you. I am not just some nothing you can send away. I am your daughter. I am that being that you carried inside of you; that being that you brought in to this world, and I’m tired of living this way! I’m tired of knowing that you live this way! Now, don’t turn me away! Don’t you dare! I need you, and like it or not, you need me too.”
She stared at me in silent wonder, and then slowly said, “I am not the woman I used to be. I don’t know how to help you.”
“Come with me, Mama, please. Just come with me and tell me the truth.”
“The truth, Monica, is dark.”
“Come with me anyway. Tell me anyway. Show me anyway.”
I could see the tears in her eyes. I could feel the fear inside of her, yet she put all of that aside to say, “Ok.”
We don’t have a lot. We don’t even have a clear plan, but we’re sitting together on the bus right now heading directly to…well, somewhere. I’ll let you know what happens next.
Goodnight,
Monica
