Held Hostage

When my sister Abby and I were children, our ability to escape from our mother was rather limited. We could go outdoors and hide from her or go outdoors and stand in front of her, still being invisible. Of course, Dad always made sure we had time with him, away from mother, which was like a little vacation on the Island of Good Mental Health.

Wintry SceneGrowing up in the heartland, where the winter season could bring frostbite and howling wind chills, during winter we often had to endure Mother’s mood swings for hours, being held captive by the weather. My sister has never been fond of snow and cold so she didn’t spend as much time outdoors as I did. I would layer up in all these big, baggy, out of fashion coats, mismatched gloves, and socks. I looked like a roly-poly little munchkin, but not in a cute way. Out I would go, to enjoy the quiet serenity of being the only person outside. It was almost magical because I could hear myself think. No bitching and moaning from you know who. I was left to my dreams of living in a snow palace as a princess. I built snowmen, made snow angels and stayed out until my fingers and toes were almost frostbitten. Even after I went inside for awhile, my mind was on brain freeze, so much of the “blah, blah, blah” from Mother was not getting through to me.

When we became young adults and could drive, the sky was the limit! As long as we had money for gas, away we would go away from Wacky Town and into something much more normal.

Once our stepmother Beatrice was on the scene, we had two women trying to hold us hostage. We learned that as long as we could drive, ride a bike or walk, we could escape.

Finally, we became liberated! We had our own transportation, our own money and our own plan. We would never allow these women to hold us hostage again.  Kind of like Scarlet O’Hara in Gone With The Wind, we said:

As God is our witness, we will never be held hostage again!

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