You Just Won't Get Away With It
I was nine years old when my mother passed right before Christmas.
The following Valentine's Day my father remarried and shortly thereafter brought his new wife home.
A day or two after she arrived, we had a wee disagreement.
Her name was Mary and that is how I referred to her. She didn't like that.
I called her Mary. She insisted I call her "mother" or "mom".
I told her "you are not my mother".
Then it happened.
Fast as lightening, out of nowhere a cold and hard slap across my face.
I was a bit shocked. As fucked up as my family was no one had ever done that before.
I didn't run away crying.
I sure as hell didn't attack her back.
Something came over me I had never felt before.
Something I would feel many times over again in my life.
I just stared at her.
I looked her right in the eye.
I said, "You are not going to get away with this. You are not going to get away with any of it.".
We stared at one another.
She blinked first.
I turned on my heel and walked away.
She may have gotten away with that slap, but by April she was gone. By May they were divorced. While at the time I would have liked to have thought I had something to with that the reality was I had nothing to do with it.
In the end she didn't get away with it.
Over the years when that feeling has come over me, I rarely have offered up any comment. I have stood and stared until they blink or turn away or start ranting like a crazy person. Not a single one of them as ever gotten away with the crap they were trying to pull. In the end they always got their comeuppance.
The following Valentine's Day my father remarried and shortly thereafter brought his new wife home.
A day or two after she arrived, we had a wee disagreement.
Her name was Mary and that is how I referred to her. She didn't like that.
I called her Mary. She insisted I call her "mother" or "mom".
I told her "you are not my mother".
Then it happened.
Fast as lightening, out of nowhere a cold and hard slap across my face.
I was a bit shocked. As fucked up as my family was no one had ever done that before.
I didn't run away crying.
I sure as hell didn't attack her back.
Something came over me I had never felt before.
Something I would feel many times over again in my life.
I just stared at her.
I looked her right in the eye.
I said, "You are not going to get away with this. You are not going to get away with any of it.".
We stared at one another.
She blinked first.
I turned on my heel and walked away.
She may have gotten away with that slap, but by April she was gone. By May they were divorced. While at the time I would have liked to have thought I had something to with that the reality was I had nothing to do with it.
In the end she didn't get away with it.
Over the years when that feeling has come over me, I rarely have offered up any comment. I have stood and stared until they blink or turn away or start ranting like a crazy person. Not a single one of them as ever gotten away with the crap they were trying to pull. In the end they always got their comeuppance.