Memory #2
My mother found me in the hall closet amongst the fur coats, and trench coats clutching my teddy bear. I was rubbing my eye that was beginning to get red and swell. My father was still raging upstairs pissed because he found out that we had replaced the wine with water. My mother had run into the closet and closed the door quickly behind her. She was crying as well and her face was red and tired. Magically the pain fell from her face and she grabbed me, held me tightly reassuring me that everything was going to be okay. She said over and over that my dad was sick and didn’t mean to hit me and not to listen to the things he called me. I cried harder when she grabbed me, but began to feel better at last. Not even the large thuds of my father stumbling above our heads could break the shelter I felt at that moment. I miss feeling that safe.
