“Acting Foolishly-stage right”

I collapsed into the arms of my gently worn chair. I tremble as I played back in my mind the scene that I had a major role in. I embrace the pity, grief, and self loathing. These traits I keep as a constant companion these days. My face moist as if I woke up out on the lawn, face down on the grass covered in dew. My countenance riddled with pride and fear. I felt as though I had been run over by a mat truck.

I know what my role was, I am an adult. How could I possibly have sent her to school? I should have kept her home and we should have talked it out until she changed her mind …although that wouldn’t have changed anything. She needed time, a brief moment to think.

What will her teachers think of me as she regales them with the tale of how she managed to go to school looking as though she had been mauled by a pit bull.

What a fool I am.

What makes me believe that of all people, I could raise her to be successful in this world?
Certainly my track record speaks for itself. All my decision I have made have failed. I’ve alienated my husband; he didn’t even sleep in our bed last night. I’ve killed every plant I ever owned, all my friendships have flickered out. Like they were a flame on a candle in the wind; gone before my fear and distrust had a chance to manifest itself.

Moments even hours have passed but, no phone calls from anyone at the school.

I thought that being a mother was something I could do, maybe even do well. Like a giant report card I see how I have failed her as I had watched her tiny frame board the bus.

I always heard them say … “Motherhood in something women are born with an innate understanding coming from within, a certain ability to be nurturing and loving.” But, with every word that comes from her mouth I hear myself, with every posture she takes I see myself, with every angry gesture… myself. How do I stop it? How do I make her understand not to follow my example? Who could I talk to? Who could possibly understand? NO ONE!

Maybe her world would be better without me. If I was not her there would be another woman to step into my role. My husband could do so much better than me.

“That’s it …” In hysteria I exclaimed, “I will go away, leave them and never return.” With the last ounce of strength I could muster I slid to my feet and staggered to doorway. There before me stood my husband, arms folded he looked smug and self assured.

“I knew I couldn’t leave you for long. What are you doing out of bed?”

What good could it do me to tell him? He would only take her side. “I’m leaving, I can’t take it anymore!” I tried pushing him aside and only fell to my knees. He hoisted me to my feet and man handled me, pulling and shoving me toward the bedroom.

“What happened now?” he exclaimed as we walked down the hall. Exhausted I proclaimed, “It’s the last straw. You didn’t see what your daughter was wearing as she left for school! I have failed her as her mother!”

Slowly I rolled, in my pitiful state onto my bed.

“But, I did see her; my dear wife. I met her at the school. As a matter of fact I helped her lay out her clothes.” Enraged I sat straight up in bed. “How could you?”

As my eyes met his he turned and with heavy steps walked down the hall. Turned the corner and went outside. The last noise I heard was the screen door hitting the door frame.

Falling into a pool of tears I realized I had finally run him off.

To my left a single step was all I heard. Lifting my head I searched for what was before me. There he stood with paper from the school in his hand.

With a snicker and a sheepish grin he held it before my tear filled eyes. “What is that?” I whimpered. Slowly he turned to the TV. He turned it on and pushed play. There before my eyes was my daughter in the lead role of the school play.

What a fool I was, she had almost missed the bus. Now I understand.

I had been ill for several weeks and completely lost track of what day it was. The outfit she was wearing was her costume. Slowly he pulled me to his side. “You would have been so proud to see her in the play. I taped the whole thing.”

At that moment I felt the blood rush from my head. Nearly fainting I felt his gentle firm hand embrace my face. “Are you alright dear?” I looked directly into his eyes “NO!”

Once again, the woman I am couldn’t hold it in… “Do you know what my morning was like? … How could you...? I am so foolish!” Pulling me to his side he said, “My darling quiet now, just watch your daughter she’s quite a star. We talked already and she understands.”

This won’t be the first or the last time I act a fool. However, realizing I acted badly is a start.

“Acting Foolishly-stage right”
Alisa Lucas aka - Max Lucas
Copyright © 2008 April 2009