I was eight years old when our babysitter blew her brains out. No, they couldn’t have imagined why she would do that? Didn’t everyone love her? On my lap lay my paper, and many pencils; pieces of charcoal and white conte were gifts from the babysitter.
It was the viewing of the body and though everyone was curious about the damaged side of her head, I focused on the side that had a slight smile. Sleep of the angels? Of course some adults wanted to stop me until I told this one man: “I want to remember her beauty and joy. You look at what you want to remember.” And my Mom almost made me leave after that, but our minister said “no, she will stay.”
Later I lay in the big field and the tall trees stood above me and though I felt so small, so insignificant, those trees had enough power to lift the bruising from my heart and bid me a rest. I had been seeking solace in this place of tall trees; here again I needed their reassurance that life might continue without a special friend.
The minister lay down too and looked up into the trees and spoke, “Hi dc, your Mom called and said you wanted to meet me. Okay, I’m here, what would you like to talk about?”
“Oh, nothing really; I just wanted you to help me listen in case there’s something said and I don’t understand it. I’m almost nine, but I’m still a kid.”
“Why here, in this place?”
“The babysitter and I were here last Saturday… lying right here on these leaves. She told me that if things weren’t better when she got home she was going to blow her brains out.” I was shaking and barely holding back eight, almost nine year old sobs.
“I’m so sorry, dc… but”.
“I didn’t know what she meant or I could have told my Mom!” Now the dam was broken.
“Bless your heart.”
“No, bless my ears so I can understand from now on. I didn’t know, I didn’t know.”
It was a strange wind that stayed with the trees all through winter. I’d park my bike and walk into the circle and call her name. But no one answered. On her birthday I took a balloon and let it go up through the trees; pink, her favorite color.
Spring came and my mind left. My parents refused therapy for me, it was a no-no. All I know is that one day when I was twelve I looked in the mirror and saw myself and not “Barbara” staring back at me. I knew I was free, and so was she.
It was the viewing of the body and though everyone was curious about the damaged side of her head, I focused on the side that had a slight smile. Sleep of the angels? Of course some adults wanted to stop me until I told this one man: “I want to remember her beauty and joy. You look at what you want to remember.” And my Mom almost made me leave after that, but our minister said “no, she will stay.”
Later I lay in the big field and the tall trees stood above me and though I felt so small, so insignificant, those trees had enough power to lift the bruising from my heart and bid me a rest. I had been seeking solace in this place of tall trees; here again I needed their reassurance that life might continue without a special friend.
The minister lay down too and looked up into the trees and spoke, “Hi dc, your Mom called and said you wanted to meet me. Okay, I’m here, what would you like to talk about?”
“Oh, nothing really; I just wanted you to help me listen in case there’s something said and I don’t understand it. I’m almost nine, but I’m still a kid.”
“Why here, in this place?”
“The babysitter and I were here last Saturday… lying right here on these leaves. She told me that if things weren’t better when she got home she was going to blow her brains out.” I was shaking and barely holding back eight, almost nine year old sobs.
“I’m so sorry, dc… but”.
“I didn’t know what she meant or I could have told my Mom!” Now the dam was broken.
“Bless your heart.”
“No, bless my ears so I can understand from now on. I didn’t know, I didn’t know.”
It was a strange wind that stayed with the trees all through winter. I’d park my bike and walk into the circle and call her name. But no one answered. On her birthday I took a balloon and let it go up through the trees; pink, her favorite color.
Spring came and my mind left. My parents refused therapy for me, it was a no-no. All I know is that one day when I was twelve I looked in the mirror and saw myself and not “Barbara” staring back at me. I knew I was free, and so was she.
How simple words are. Just letters placed together following some simple rules. The simplest things make such profound images. I simply wanted to hold the little girl and thank her for seeing the good in something so bad.
ReplyDeletea moody mind:
ReplyDeleteI apologize for not noticing your comment sooner, and how very nice it makes me feel.
I've been working on a painting from this actual photo for over a year. The goal is to finally heal when the painting is done, as I still see that pink balloon rising today. Thank you. dcrelief