She cringed as she walked toward the large wooden church doors... her knobby knees trembled... her tiny legs felt weak beneath her.
Her hair was pulled back into a long ponytail; pink cotton ribbon to fasten... pink polyester skirt suite; white button up blouse... white nylon knee highs & black patent leather shoes.
It was that time of year. Mothers Day.
Hate is a strong word BUT she did... She hated this day... "Why" you ask?.. "Mothers Day should be one of the most joyous days of the year" you say "it's a day of celebration" WELL here's her story - - > > >
"Here we go again" *she thought*As the church doors swung open - And she And her siblings slowly marched inside... she glanced back to look at them... "Why weren't they dreading the walk to the table?" *she pondered* she quickly turned to glance back again... neither her brother nor her sister seemed to notice the terror in her face... neither of them wore the same expression???
The procession of the line continued... it was moving forward way too fast for the little girl
The lady, in the powder blue suite, in front of her, dropped her hanky... she bent down to pick it up... There it was... the long wooden table... ONE box full of red carnations - the other full of white... the little girl could see she was next in line *her legs weakened a bit more*
The Sisters of the church were standing around with big broad smiles greeting folks "Good morning! Welcome to the house of the Lord!"
"Come here baby, let me pin a carnation on you *she adorned a pearly white Crest smile* The Sister bent down a little closer toward the girl... "Now baby... is your mother dead or alive?"
WTH?! the girl knew it was coming BUT it still stung like cold water to an open wound *she felt a bite And a burn*
- An uproarious silence filled the girl's head; her ears were ringing; she stood there motionless for a moment... when she was finally able to quiet the noise And stop the ringing... an urgency to turn And run tugged at her insides. She wanted to but she didn't. She just stood there.
- 1) lip twist 2) eye roll 3) shoulder shrug *backward* 4) deep stare
- An adult voice behind her spoke out and said "Dead" just like that... ... "Dead" the single word that had ripped the young girl's world apart...
- The Sister's wide Crest smile had been lessened to a tight lip grin... the corners of her mouth now were barely turned up. Slightly taken aback... The Sister quickly reached inside the box And pulled out a white carnation... "Ohhh... baby" she said *slightly above a whisper* "come here... let me pin this on you... come here baby... it's okay... I understand" she said while pinning the white carnation to the girl's pink suite jacket.
- "NO the hell you don't!" *the girl silently shouted* "You don't even know me lady... you don't care that my mommy is gone NEVER to return... you don't care that she has been snatched up And taken from me... FROM US!.. you can't possibly understand how I long to hear the sweet sound of her voice And how I wish I could still feel her warm hugs And gentle kisses... you can't imagine how my world has been tossed flipped And turned upside down... YOU have know idea how I feel lady!" *she silently raged* she stood there lips poked... STIFF as a board... arms straight by her sides.
- AFTER "The Pinning"... the girl turned And tight-roped it to the closest pew... she eased onto the pew wishing she could become invisible *she sat* arms folded tightly .. chin tucked; head bowed *fighting back tears* ALL because of this damn white carnation *still raging*
- She was angry. She didn't like the fact these people - who didn't even know her - now knew TOO much about her... ... They knew she didn't have a mommy. They knew her mother was dead!
- Mid-way through the service when the church folks were all smiling, nodding in agreement with the Pastor's message, hugging the neighbor seated next to them, or following along in passage... she slowly raised her tiny hand to the lapel of her pink suite jacket... crumble the white carnation... unpinned it from her jacket... And as inconspicuously as possible, dropped it to the floor... Ahhhh... she could breath *she exhaled*
Today, so many years later, that experience has faded but the memory is forever. She can appreciate the celebration of Mothers Day *now being a mother herself* BUT white carnations are still her least favorite flower... And she still feels "The Pinning" to be 'silly tradition'
Experiences during our formative years move with us through life... it is - we - who decide how we will allow them to influence our future poodle
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