Source
"Look, Grannie. There's green and brown stuff floating on those rocks." Five-year old April squatted then pointed at the algae that gathered on a small section of rocks at the edge of the beach. She loved playing in the sand. So each visit, we'd gather our sunscreen and head to the beach. I watched, but didn't immediately rise from my lounger to investigate. Once I did, I noticed several small sea crabs rush from behind the rocks and scurry toward the shoreline to her delight. She giggled and scooped up a handful of water, then tossed it after them.
I pulled back my shades.
"That's naturally-occurring fungus that nature requires for all living marine organisms to function property. Every organism has its role to play in the ecosystem, dear." I readjusted my shades.
"In the what? I don't understand." April paused as if trying to remember. "Will it hurt me if I touch it?"
"Yes, dear, it can cause your skin to itch. And, if you have a sore on your legs or arm, you can become infected. Also, you are never to eat it. So move away. It's also dangerous if you slip, fall, and hit your head on one of those rocks."
April complied, following me. I watched as she sat in her child's lounge chair. Frowning, her freckles brightened in the backdrop of the sun's glistening reflection. She placed her hand over her sun shield and glanced out for a few moments over the tides rolling in.
What April said next shocked me.
"Just like Momma did. She loved the beach, but slipped and fell and hit her head on the rocks. That must have hurt. I miss her." With one swipe, she brushed a single tear from her face, then turned back toward me.
The sadness was evident as she reached for my hand and placed it next to her cheek, then hung her head as she'd done many times before when preparing to bathe. I remember the bathtub of tears.
My pulse raced. That was my first time hearing this implausible explanation of her mother's death. Thoughts on how to respond swirled, so I responded impulsively.
Who told you that?" I snapped back a bit too loudly before I realized the effect my words had on her. April quickly let go of my hand and stared at me with teary eyes.
"Daddy and my other grandmother. Daddy said he misses her too and wishes she were here with us." Then she sobbed profusely.
My back stiffened. My shoulders heaved as I took in a fiery breath. My nostrils flared while clinching my fists. Anger rose up. A rush of feelings akin to frustration, hostility, grief, and vengeance flooded my senses. Two years had passed, and the difficulty of forgiving the person responsible for my daughter's death still weighed heavily.
I then cursed beneath my breath, reached over and gathered April, then sat her on my lap, cupping her head to my chest.
My sweet granddaughter deserved to know the truth. She just wasn't old enough to comprehend the situation and implications for her life going forward. I vacillated on how much I would tell her when the time came.
No sense hiding it when the entire family knew her mother lost her life in a domestic dispute. The same dispute that her father walked away from. The small piece of justice was knowing he was held accountable for his actions and was serving time for the crime.
But it wouldn't bring back my daughter and April's mother.
Since she was too young to remember the incident, he was now trying to rewrite history. The account didn't make the national headlines. And my daughter wasn't alive to confront the falsehoods.
And the truth was nowhere embedded in my son-in-law.
From several states away, I knew shortly after with scarce, but important, details disclosed that the chemistry in their relationship was too fiery to be tamed. That the end I could have predicted was lost on my daughter, brought me no satisfaction.
I pleaded with her not to bring children into the situation until their relationship stabilized.
I told you so rang hollow, so I suppressed it, standing there gazing down at my daughter finally lying in peace. Her face staring up at me revealed nothing of the drama and trauma endured that was her daily life for five years. It told everything of the sweet, but naive girl, who was determined to make an incompatible relationship work.
If only she had put aside the shame at being adamant in his defense and confided in me.
But the anger Matilyn felt at us, especially me, for not accepting her fiance pushed her farther away from all her family. So far away in fact, that relocating to another state felt the only safe place to nurture a fragile union where jealousy, distrust and manipulation gripped the relationship.
All this I detected within a few months of their meeting. My husband didn't catch on until several months later. When I think back to their interaction, it was the tone in his voice and the look in his eyes when he didn't realize I was watching, that caused a lump to rise in my throat.
"Lauralee, you don't want Matilyn to be her own woman. You've already failed at one marriage, so stay out of our relationship and work on your own." The venom in Gary's eyes sent chills through my spine.
I knew the sign of a controlling personality having dealt with it in my first marriage. But unlike Matilyn, I was strong. And with help of dear friends and loved ones, was wise enough to understand that you can't change people. You step out of their lives.
A quietness fell over our beach outing as I sat there rocking April.
Glancing into the distance, I closed my eyes for a moment and allowed the afternoon sun to bathe my face, calming my senses and returning my heartbeat to an acceptable rhythm. I composed myself enough to hug her close and give her kisses over her face and arms, a playful gesture that brought a smile to her face.
For the moment, she forgot our conversation as she slipped from my arms. Picking up her shovel, she began digging into the sand. How quickly children switch from one situation to the other, I thought.
Seeing how much pain knowing this small alternate reality was causing April, would knowing the awful truth in the future exacerbate it?
I'll raise my granddaughter the best I can under the circumstances.
Under harsh criticism, I refuse to visit nor take or allow my granddaughter when she is visiting me to see her incarcerated father. Inappropriate is the excuse I voice. And the details surrounding the incident I've never reconciled.
Gary either forgot or didn't know pieces of information Matilyn divulged about his past and current behaviors. She was quick to forgive infidelities and other acts of violence whenever caught in the act.
He's attempted with several family members to plead his case in his favor. As far as I'm concerned, he talking to an audience of one.
I vowed to defend my position until the day I die.
A black mood overtakes me whenever I think of my son-in-law. My single-minded focus on ways in which he could suffer consumes me. I didn't divulge to my family that I'd sought therapy. I knew I had to forgive him for the sake of my own well being and that of my granddaughter; else risk losing shared custody.
A balancing act at best. I can't predict and have no right to determine when her fragile state of mind can handle the details of her mother's absence from her life.
April's own life hangs in the balance. Her temperament I feel mirrors her mother. Fiery, but fragile. Perhaps she will grow to be a strong woman. I hope so and will do all in my power to nurture this aspect of her personality.
When will the time for the absolute truth ever be right?
And when will the bathtub only contain bubbles and a reflection of smiles instead of tears?
For my theme, I was inspired by and utilized the @daily.prompt's:
14 April 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2342: bathtub of tears;
And,
15 April 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2343: audience of one.
Discovers On A Rock Spanish Translation
Optionally with more lines
Source
"Mira, Grannie. Hay cosas verdes y marrones flotando en esas rocas". April, de cinco años, se puso en cuclillas y señaló las algas que se acumulaban en una pequeña sección de rocas al borde de la playa. Le encantaba jugar en la arena. Así que en cada visita cogíamos la crema solar y nos íbamos a la playa. Yo observaba, pero no me levantaba inmediatamente de la tumbona para investigar. Cuando lo hice, me di cuenta de que varios cangrejos de mar salían corriendo de detrás de las rocas y se acercaban a la orilla para deleite de la niña. Soltó una risita, recogió un puñado de agua y lo lanzó tras ellos.
Me quité las gafas.
*"Son hongos naturales que la naturaleza necesita para que todos los organismos marinos vivos funcionen correctamente. Cada organismo tiene su papel en el ecosistema, querida".
"¿En el qué? No lo entiendo". April hizo una pausa como si intentara recordar. "¿Me hará daño si lo toco?".
*Sí, cariño, puede picarte la piel. Y, si te sale una llaga en las piernas o en el brazo, se te puede infectar. Además, nunca debes comerla. Así que aléjate. También es peligroso si te resbalas, te caes y te golpeas la cabeza con una de esas rocas".
April obedeció y me siguió. La observé mientras se sentaba en su tumbona infantil. Frunció el ceño y sus pecas se iluminaron con el reflejo del sol. Colocó la mano sobre el parasol y miró unos instantes las mareas.
Lo que April dijo a continuación me sorprendió.
"Igual que mamá, que adoraba la playa, pero resbaló, se cayó y se golpeó la cabeza contra las rocas. Debió de dolerle. La echo de menos". De un manotazo, se quitó una lágrima de la cara y se volvió hacia mí.
La tristeza era evidente cuando buscó mi mano y la colocó junto a su mejilla, luego bajó la cabeza como había hecho muchas veces antes cuando se preparaba para bañarse. **Recuerdo la bañera de lágrimas.
Se me aceleró el pulso. Era la primera vez que oía aquella explicación inverosímil de la muerte de su madre. Los pensamientos sobre cómo responder se arremolinaron, así que respondí impulsivamente.
¿Quién te ha dicho eso?, respondí con un tono demasiado alto antes de darme cuenta del efecto que mis palabras habían tenido en ella. April me soltó la mano rápidamente y me miró con los ojos llorosos.
*"Papá y mi otra abuela. Papá dice que también la echa de menos y que le gustaría que estuviera aquí con nosotros".
Mi espalda se puso rígida. Se me encogieron los hombros y respiré hondo. Mis fosas nasales se encendieron mientras apretaba los puños. Me invadió la ira. Una oleada de sentimientos de frustración, hostilidad, dolor y venganza inundó mis sentidos. Habían pasado dos años y aún pesaba la dificultad de perdonar al responsable de la muerte de mi hija.
Maldije por lo bajo, luego levanté a April y la senté en mi regazo, estrechando su cabeza contra mi pecho.
Merecía saber la verdad. Pero no era lo bastante mayor para comprender la situación y las implicaciones para su vida en el futuro. Dudé sobre cuánto le diría cuando llegara el momento.
No tiene sentido ocultarlo cuando toda la familia sabe que su madre perdió la vida en una disputa doméstica. La misma disputa de la que se libró su padre. El pequeño trozo de justicia era saber que se le había hecho responsable de sus actos y que estaba cumpliendo condena por el crimen.
Pero eso no traería de vuelta a mi hija y a la madre de April.
Como ella era demasiado joven para recordar el incidente, ahora él intentaba reescribir la historia. El relato no llegó a los titulares nacionales. Y mi hija no estaba viva para enfrentarse a las falsedades.
Y la verdad no estaba incrustada en mi yerno.
Desde varios estados de distancia, supe poco después con escasos, pero importantes, detalles revelados que la química en su relación era demasiado ardiente para ser domada. El hecho de que mi hija no se diera cuenta del final que yo podría haber predicho no me produjo ninguna satisfacción.
Le rogué que no metiera niños en la situación hasta que su relación se estabilizara.
*El "te lo dije" sonó hueco, así que lo reprimí y me quedé mirando a mi hija, que por fin yacía en paz. Su rostro no revelaba nada del drama y el trauma que había sufrido en su vida diaria durante cinco años. Lo decía todo de la chica dulce, pero ingenua, que estaba decidida a hacer funcionar una relación incompatible.
Si tan sólo hubiera dejado a un lado la vergüenza de ser inflexible en su defensa y me hubiera confiado a mí.
Pero la rabia que Matilyn sentía hacia nosotros, especialmente hacia mí, por no aceptar a su prometido la alejó aún más de toda su familia. Tan lejos, de hecho, que trasladarse a otro estado le pareció el único lugar seguro para alimentar una unión frágil en la que los celos, la desconfianza y la manipulación se apoderaban de la relación.
Todo esto lo detecté a los pocos meses de conocerse. Mi marido no se dio cuenta hasta varios meses después. Cuando recuerdo su interacción, lo que me hizo un nudo en la garganta fue el tono de su voz y la mirada que me dirigió cuando no se dio cuenta de que le estaba observando.
"Lauralee, no quieres que Matilyn sea su propia mujer. Ya has fracasado en un matrimonio, así que no te metas en nuestra relación y trabaja por tu cuenta". El veneno en los ojos de Gary me produjo escalofríos.
Conocía el signo de una personalidad controladora, ya que lo había sufrido en mi primer matrimonio. Pero a diferencia de Matilyn, yo era fuerte. Y con la ayuda de amigos y seres queridos, era lo suficientemente sabia como para entender que no se puede cambiar a la gente. Hay que salir de sus vidas.
La tranquilidad se apoderó de nuestra excursión a la playa mientras me sentaba a mecer a April.
Mirando a lo lejos, cerré los ojos por un momento y dejé que el sol de la tarde me bañara la cara, calmando mis sentidos y devolviendo los latidos de mi corazón a un ritmo aceptable. Me serené lo suficiente como para abrazarla y darle besos por la cara y los brazos, un gesto juguetón que le arrancó una sonrisa.
Por el momento, se olvidó de nuestra conversación y se soltó de mis brazos. Cogió su pala y empezó a cavar en la arena. Qué rápido cambian los niños de una situación a otra, pensé.
Viendo cuánto dolor le estaba causando a April conocer esta pequeña realidad alternativa, ¿saber la horrible verdad en el futuro lo exacerbaría?
Criaré a mi nieta lo mejor que pueda dadas las circunstancias.
Bajo duras críticas, me niego a visitar ni llevar o permitir que mi nieta cuando me visita vea a su padre encarcelado. Inapropiada es la excusa que expreso. Y los detalles que rodean el incidente nunca los he reconciliado.
Gary olvidó o desconoció piezas de información que Matilyn divulgó sobre su pasado y sus comportamientos actuales. Se apresuraba a perdonar infidelidades y otros actos de violencia siempre que la pillaban in fraganti.
Ha intentado con varios miembros de su familia defender su caso a su favor. En lo que a mí respecta, está hablando a una audiencia de uno.
Juré defender mi posición hasta el día de mi muerte.
Cada vez que pienso en mi yerno, me invade un estado de ánimo negro. Mi atención se centra en las formas en que podría sufrir y me consume. No conté a mi familia que había ido a terapia. Sabía que tenía que perdonarle por mi propio bienestar y el de mi nieta; si no, corría el riesgo de perder la custodia compartida.
Un acto de equilibrio en el mejor de los casos. No puedo predecir ni tengo derecho a determinar cuándo su frágil estado mental podrá soportar los detalles de la ausencia de su madre en su vida.
La propia vida de April pende de un hilo. Creo que su temperamento refleja el de su madre. Ardiente, pero frágil. Quizás se convierta en una mujer fuerte. Eso espero y haré todo lo que esté en mi mano para fomentar este aspecto de su personalidad.
¿Cuándo llegará el momento de la verdad absoluta?
¿Y cuándo la bañera sólo contendrá burbujas y un reflejo de sonrisas en lugar de lágrimas?
Para mi tema, me inspiré y utilicé la publicación de @daily.prompt de:
14 April 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2342: bathtub of tears;
And,
15 April 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2343: audience of one.
SOURCES:
a) JustClickindiva's Footer created in Canva utilizing its free background and images used with permission from discord admins.
b) Unless otherwise noted, all photos taken by me with my (i) Samsung Galaxy 10" Tablet, (ii) Samsung Phone, & (iii) FUJI FinePix S3380 - 14 Mega Pixels Digital Camera
c) Purple Butterfly part of purchased set of Spiritual Clip Art for my Personal Use
d) All Community logos, banners, page dividers used with permission of Discord Channel admins.
e) Ladies of Hive banner used with permission of and in accordance with the admin's guidelines
f) Thumbnail Image created by me in Canva.
g) "Flames." What is Apophysis 2.09. https://flam3.com/
If translation included, I use DeepL to assist my readers.
Thanks for your patience an understanding.
Si se incluye traducción, utilizo DeepL para ayudar a mis lectores.
Gracias por su paciencia y comprensión.
This...phew! This is real and happening in our world. I met with my friend yesterday, and she was having a discussion when a lady passed by. She felt pity for the lady and told me what she was going through. The husband beat her, and he recently beat her while she was pregnant that when she got to the hospital, the baby had died in her womb.
At that moment, I didn't want to feel sorry for the lady, for she's still with the guy. Is this love? I believe love should not make us blinded to the extent that we stay rooted in a place our presence isn't wanted. I am sorry the character in the story faced all these, and even at her death, lies are still brought up on their child on how the woman died.
Yes, it is real and happening all too frequently. I often wonder why people stay in toxic and abusive relationships. There's a psychology behind it. And a sad one.
I often wonder why, especially men, just can walk away and move on to find someone compatible. At least in the story I told, which is not too often, the child was left alive. It could have been devastating.
Thanks so much for your visit and engagement with my story. The situation is all-too familiar as you say you actually saw this in person. I wish the world were different when it comes to domestic abuse.
I appreciate your support. Take care.
!ALIVE
!LADY
I often wonder why, too, but the truth is that people can be complicated, and that complication is something that can never be understood.
Thankfully, the child was left alive, though not having that motherly love would be felt by her.
Yes, I also wish the world was different. Thanks for sharing this.
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Wow 🐼🌼🌺, what a gripping story.
I like how the grandma said "you step out of a toxic relationship".
Many lives would be saved if only this key was followed.
A lovely read
Yes, @beckyroyal. If only both men and women would do this. Sadly, it's the women who stay and attempt to make the relationship work to their detriment. And instead of letting go something that is not working, it seems as though men are the ones who can't readily do this. A lot of lives, including those who try to intervene, would be saved if only the men would move on.
Thanks so much for your visit and engagement with my story. I appreciate it. Take care.
!ALIVE
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That's so true ma'am. Thanks and take care
DEEP. But REAL. So many Grannies are going through this...
So true. I'm acquainted with a few myself. A sad situation where the children are the ones who loses the most. Thanks for your visit. I appreciate it and your support.
!ALIVE
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Elders who teach us many good things, if we follow them, reduce the problems in our life. By going to such a place we feel much better, we breathe much more peacefully which is very good for our health.
Yes, elders can teach us many valuable lessons in life if we care to listen @djbravo. Many children have to live with relatives, especially grandparents for one reason or another. It's a good thing to have these individuals in one's life.
Thanks so much for your visit and engagement with my story. I appreciate it. Take care.
!ALIVE
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