Wednesday, October 25, 2006


It's such an unsatisfactory word, estrangement. It's so hollow, so impersonal.

It lacks the emotional gravity to convey the loss, the loneliness, the rejection.

It doesn't accurately describe the reality of being motherless.

It doesn't express the ache of the 652 days that you've spent not talking to her, not belonging, not loved.

It doesn't tell us about the desperation of the day you learned that unconditional love is just another fairy tale that doesn't apply to you.

It doesn't effectively communicate how it feels to be told that she used to think she had room in her heart for all 4 daughters, but now she knows she doesn't, and you're the one to go.

It doesn't imply the heart break or the bitterness, or the strength it takes to move on. It simply suggests that two people have become strangers, perhaps indicating that they were once close, but no longer are.

Except that in our case, we never really were.

And it leaves me wondering, if it was so easy for her to stop, did she ever really love me in the first place?

I rage against the failure of the English language because it's easier than saying this:

my mother doesn't love me.

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