Daily Prompt: Hi, Mom!
Today is Mother’s Day in the United States. Wherever in the world you are, write your mother a letter.
Photographers, share a photo that says mothering.
Dang you Daily Prompt! One thing I like about Mother’s Day is that I don’t have to write to my mom. I did it, but I didn’t feel like publishing it yesterday and spoiling the mood for those who have wonderful moms.
It’s almost hard for me to believe those moms exist; they seem like fairy tale moms.
I’m supposed to write you a letter, for Mother’s Day, but I couldn’t think of anything to say to you. I found myself looking back to the old days and the kind of mother you were.
Remember that time, I was about ten years old, we went to a drive-in movie and smoked cigarettes, one after the other. The Rambler’s ashtray was overflowing! Boy, I thought, my mom lets me smoke! Cool!
And, how old was I that time I got puking drunk on vodka and orange juice at your house? Fourteen, I think. The next morning I had to ride the Greyhound home, sicker than a dog. I can’t believe Dad didn’t smell the booze on me. If he had ever known what went on at your house, he never would have let me visit you!
Remember when I was fifteen, you had that Army boyfriend, Harvey? He brought his younger buddy over and we all played cards and got shit-faced drunk. Then you and Harvey went to bed and left me alone with that soldier boy. What do you suppose happened while you were bangin’ away in there?
Boy, those were the days, eh? I used to think it was cool that there were no rules at your house. Stealing, lieing, cheating, drinking, smoking, sex, anything goes.
Then I became a mom.
At age seventeen.
And I realized, as I was raising my own child, what a terrible mother you were.
So, here’s your letter.