Mother

By Anastacia Clementson

My relationship with my mom has always been tense. One moment I’m thinking she really needs a hug, the next I’m restraining myself from showing her I can be as crazy as she tends to get.

However, as I have grown more, experienced more, I understand her more & more. 

There is a particular memory, it’s the furthest back I can think of. My mom had knocked my head onto the stairs banister at home, leaving me with a scar under my right eye. I’ve grown to like that scar..

At that time my mom, Tatty, worked as a Security Guard at night. She was a single mother with two girls, one barely 2 years old. My mom came from a big family, but she was the little black sheep that made everyone uncomfortable I learnt; the one no one really wanted to be around. 

I think it is this reason that she was granted access to her own bit of land from the family early on. It was not far from uncles, aunts & lots of first, second & third cousins but I don’t remember us having visitors while living there. I know my 3^rd cousins that grew up with my mom would drop in some nights to check on us when she’s working.

On that day in my memory, I wanted to do something special. I cannot remember why, maybe it was Mother’s Day… Nevertheless, it was all dark when I woke up then. I got off the bed, careful to not wake my little sis. I opened the door & saw the semi dark sky with shades of blue slowly emerging. 

I smelled the dew in the air & walked downstairs barefoot as I liked the feel of the dew-covered grass in the yard. It covered the entirety of it, little green shoots of life that sucked in all the moisture. 

The unpainted picket fence around our yard separates us from our neighbors on all sides except the right; there was an empty lot with overgrown weeds & wild plants- sometimes abode to spontaneous jungle adventures or hide & seek.

Someone’s cock crooned to beckon the time to wake up. Dogs answered now & again from my neighbors as I dragged my feet along the dew-filled grass, enjoying their change from lime green to deep green.

The first task I had set myself was to fetch water from the pipe at the front of the yard. It took many trips back & forth to half our big blue barrel. The sun was visible & my neighbor’s grandson was taking their cows out to graze. It was time for breakfast. 

After washing my feet I went back upstairs to get it started. My sister’s bright deep eyes peeped out from under the bed curtain, on the right. However, I first went left to our tiny kitchen where I struggled with the kerosene stove to heat the kettle with fresh wild tea bush we had picked from our backyard.

“Rise & shine sleepyhead”, I shouted as I then jumped into bed & rolled about with her until she giggled. 

“We goin’ grandma today”, I said, tickling her sides. “We haffo clean up fuh mom.” 

We had brushed our teeth then had tea (breakfast). We then proceeded to clean up. We washed the dishes, made the bed, swept then mopped the floor. We then picked out our best dresses from the suitcases on the side then went to take a bath downstairs, where the bathroom was.

Here we got caught.

We were on our way back upstairs when we saw mommy walking down the lane towards our home. She was wearing her white shirt outside her green skirt with matching green shoulder flashes on both shoulders. Her black shoes & black socks gleamed in the sun though, matching her tilted black security cap.

The neighbor across the road greeted her & she said something back as she turned into the yard. Upon seeing us, the change was instantaneous. The eyes squinted as it sharply bored into us, searching. The forehead wrinkled & the walk became faster, seemingly louder. 

“Why are you outside? – Didn’t I say not to come outside til I get here?”, her voice was low but angry.

Kitty, my sister, looked at me scared. I said I forgot. I had really forgotten.

“Kitty, go upstairs. Take meh bag”.

Kitty, my sister, held tightly onto mommy’s purse & climbed the stairs, looking back at every step. 

Now, me. I was frozen but also confused. Moreso when I saw the big, thick belt on my mom’s waist. I thought I was doing something good-helping mommy. Tears had already started at that point as I remembered my mom had warned me before. She was very strict in certain regards- but I really wanted to do something nice for her.

I tried to explain, “I forget mammy. I won’t do it again – Nane having a party & I wanted to help…”

I did not finish as my words became yells of pain as the belt hit my back, my feet. She was very upset & thinking back now, probably scared too. She had to leave us in the house every night by ourselves & it must have worried her a lot.

This memory has stuck with me I think mostly because it has been told & retold in xo many ways & versions & of course corrupted to the intention of the teller. In some ways I am not even sure if what I remember is what was. 

That same day I had later visited my grandmother’s house.

My grandmother lived deeper on the main road of the village while my house was through a side street that ran parallel to the main road. I went down that street then walked out to the main road through a connecting street. Unfortunately, that street had no road, it was all mud & it had rained bad the day before. I ended up falling down a few times before reaching the main road. So, there I was all covered with mud, walking to my gran’s.

My village was small so everybody knew everybody, meaning they knew me but I didn’t know them.

“Lil pinky wa happen to yuh clothes?”

“Is it Aunty G’s granddaughta? She daughter doing ok now right”

“Sheh live wid her crazy moda right?”

I created a bit of a fuss for these adults with me being covered with mud, though I did enjoy the attention. As a kid at that time I craved it.

I arrived at my grandmother’s with one of the passing villagers shouting, “Aunty G Pinky daughta coming down by yuh”.

Her house was huge, at the time it seemed like a castle. It was two floors with fancy-colored bricks, a balcony on each floor with a garage & big mango tree on the left & a small concrete temple, a garden & another mango tree on the left. My grandmother is multi religious, mostly hindu at that time, I think.

I walked over the wooden bridge to the gate & my big aunt came out. She was tall like my mom & red too, but redder than my mother & fat with fat cheeks. My mom’s cheeks are not so chubby, my mom is quite skinny. 

Big aunt looked me up & down, probably wondering if I had jumped into the trench on my way here. She took me inside to clean up.

It was when I had washed & was changing that I realized & my aunt too; I had bruises. Black & ugly blue bruises on the front & the back. My aunt raised the alarm & dragged me out for my uncles, little aunt & grandmother to look. Apparently, it was very bad. I had not thought so initially as buck-teeth Ryan from across the road gets lashes everyday from his grandmother as well.

Even so, my grandmother was upset & was aiming to get a belt to my mom too. They all argued & talked about my mom while my big aunt put something that stung on my bruises.

“It’s dat Bajan man, nothing wrang with Tatty- It’s him”, shouted my grandmother with red eyes as she glared at my uncles & aunts.

Apparently to some, my mom has been acting the role of a crazy person since she returned from a work trip to Barbados. She had met a man there, my father. According to my grandmother they had only met once more after I was born but he had someone else. My mom had gone to Barbados.

“Mammy, yuh know Tatty always de odd one even before she went ah Barbados & meet dat man”, that was big uncle tony – “Yuh rememba when she nearly bite off meh flesh when we used to live in ogle?”

My big aunt looked far off as she added, “sheh neva like we touch sheh things & would throw it away if we touch it- plus who spend all dat time in dem room?”. My aunt had sucked her teeth at this point, unconsciously pressing into a scar on my hand. I hissed.

It went on & on along those lines. I didn’t understand completely but I think I was thinking my mother was quite strange at this point & she had done a bad thing beating me so badly.

My grandmother cried silently, holding the sides of her head. “Tony, tek she & go report it. I want custody.”

That castle-like house then became my & my sister’s new home. 

I never saw my mother again until years later when my Big aunt brought her back. This time she had completely lost herself; she was found living on the streets.

When mother came to live with us, it felt strange but also nostalgic. I knew I wanted her there & only aware that I missed her when she was there. She wasn’t close with us of course or maybe she wasn’t close with me. My sister was able to make her laugh, act like a baby with her, hug her… These were still perhaps too awkward for me but we slowly got along reasonably ok in our own way.

She enjoys reading & so did I so I always brought home books that we both read or we would climb the trees to pick fruits from the back yard or from the open lots down the walk. Of course, we also fought a lot, sometimes for the most stupid things.

There is a particularly nasty memory where I was preparing for a weekend job I had gotten as I was in my last year in high school.

I had gotten upset with her because she was taking forever in the bathroom. I should have known better of course as my mom’s usual time is an hour or more & she is very consistent with the when. So, everyone knows that you have to beat her to it if you want to leave on time. I don’t know what I was thinking but I’m usually late so, no surprise I had to wait.

While waiting I grumbled about it & the newspapers my mom likes to place all over the chairs & floors. I think it did something for her at that time, she was never comfortable simply walking or sitting on surfaces. Nevertheless, I played a meanie & threw away all her newspapers, justifying it that I was “cleaning up”.

It was no surprise that when I did finish my time in the bathroom, my mom ambushed me outside the bathroom with a knife.

When I felt the pain on my back, I turned around in astonishment, “mom, you…”

The second hit landed on my forehead, then my chest. I caught her hand before she hit me again. She tried to free herself by biting me but I held on tightly until help from my uncles & cousins came. 

Her eyes were wild & her hands, even held, struggled to fly at everyone as they surrounded her.

“Tatty! Are you crazy? That’s Lisa…your daughter, wake up!”, shouted uncle Jason. But Tatty just attacked him next with her available hand. He wanted to respond to her but I held him back- mom wasn’t right.

I was feeling pretty terrible at this point but surprisingly not scared, more like I had run a mile without stopping- labored but focused. 

I had to control my breathing as it hurt to breathe. I felt that the chest had received some damage but just a stinging pain from the back & forehead. The doctors confirmed that I got a hole in my chest but it wasn’t serious as it was quite shallow. Mom obviously didn’t put enough force into it.

I was very scared to go home to face her afterwards. I slept with my cousins for about 2 weeks after, even when mom was no longer in the house. 

My gran gave her approval for my mom to be institutionalized. Initially, she should have been taking her medications & going to the hospital now & again for checkups but mom was wary of hospitals & the medicines. The family too got tired of the fuss she would kick up when it came time to take her & making sure she took her medications. At one point mom had not eaten any food cooked at home for days because she thought we were spiking her food-which we had resorted to at one point. But, even this couldn’t be maintained as my mom was too suspicious.

Gran never really wanted her to be institutionalized because the place itself had a bad rep but I think we all saw that it was necessary for her medications to be timely. I was thinking too that maybe new faces may do her good. My sister did not think this way. She blamed me upsetting mom for making her react that way. She was not entirely wrong as I could’ve indeed been a bit more tolerant, thoughtful… Not my best quality…

Mom is now better; she travels now & again but we try to keep her among familiar places with lots of family so she can wander whenever she wants but we can still find her. She is in no way perfect, but she is okay when left to her own things. She likes eating though still a bad cook, she’s grown her own little garden though quite particular about people picking from it- we know by now not to touch her things of course.