Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

actually, the cruelty of mothers and aunts pretending to be mothers...but i didn't know if all that would fit into the subject box.

***

She didn’t want to smell like a Christmas tree, she said.

“Like a what?” I asked, thinking I didn’t hear her correctly.

“Like a Christmas tree,” she said as if it was the most normal thing to say.

“How can you smell like a Christmas tree?” I asked slightly confused.

I don’t remember her exact answer (this was almost 20 years ago), but I do remember it was about her only using bland smelling soaps and under arm roll on deodorant and nothing else. She went on to explain that too many body products can clash and that her aunt said it made her smell like a Christmas tree with too many decorations on. People would think she was easy.

My friend was raised by her aunt after her mom and dad died. We were respectively 18 and 20 at the time. It was a hot summer January day in South Africa. It was also her birthday. We were walking back from the beach, she to her aunt’s house and me to my grandparents’ apartment were my mom would pick me up later because we lived in another town. I wanted to go test some perfumes at the Department store on our way. I didn’t really want to do it, because I felt hot and sticky and thirsty, but she was going back to college the next week and I was going back to school and I knew I wouldn’t see her for a while. It was hard to let go of the person whom I shared a room with for two years, a person who knew me better than my own family did.

What I didn’t know was that that would be the last time I ever saw her. To this day I still wonder sometimes what happened to her…If she ever had a little girl of her own and if she taught her too that it wasn’t good to smell like a Christmas tree...and if the girl would laugh because it was funny and she felt loved, or if it hurt her like it hurt my friend…or maybe she just didn’t know any different.

But at that moment I thought it was cruel and that it was a little sad that her aunt wouldn’t take a little time and a little love to explore the possibilities with my friend…or at least buy her some products that didn’t clash for goodness sake. How hard could that be?

Does it make you a kind person, to care for an orphan? Obviously not. Yes, it was good of her to take in my friend when she had nowhere else to go, but why did she have to make her feel guilty and stupid and unloved all the time?

I don’t know the answer to that, but I remember her saying this funny, sad thing and I remember how it made me feel…But then, my mother never told me about tampons.

Maybe my friend thought that was cruel.

if only, we were taught how to communicate by independent loving sources with real skills, but sadly often, we hear only the methods, the words, of those in charge of feeding us, who were damaged by the folks in charge of feeding them....a cycle that can go on for generations......I was impressed by how poignantly vivid this occurrence was for you ( or the speaker of the poem )....it demonstrates quite well, THE POWER OF WORDS......well done, smile

aNd i'm impressed by your lovely replies, mr. saw. thank you sO much.

yes. it's a vicious circle indeed. as an ex social worker i saw plenty of that going on. but then i think we all do, in our own lives & our circles of family & friends. in the end we all just do our best and that has to be enough even if it isn't, yes? this is a true story. and yes, it still surprises me to remember moments like that so clearly & at the oddest times.

thank you again, steve.
sunny skies
mj

my aunts weren´t cruel, but I had a mother!! Loved the material traces in those memories, smilegrl!! gracias!!

aahh, the beautiful miss arcadia! gracias to you for reading and enjoying.

I enjoyed reading this..sparked all kinds of thought on the the variety of energies that fuel "kindnesses".
I mean, does anyone really do anything kind anymore without attaching some sort of price to it???
Good read
H

I like how you weave the perspective of young girls, the relationships in early life(people who feed you)
although I personally feel the "whip" of alcoholic parents- forgiveness is huge- healing myself- listening to others-
trusting can be a mistake- damage
is monumental- yet my body- mind and soul are invested in seeing the outcome-
hoping that the family of origin issues don't get passed on to my childrens children-
peacel

thank you kindly ladies. yes, it is about energies. yes, it is about what we pass on. and yes, forgiveness is huge.

one of the joys in my life is being able to see another persons perspective, and just accept that for what it is---