Trips, Blips, and Slips

Stumbling blocks are a way of life in my head. Some external. Most internal. That is, internal in the sense that the blocks are the replays of messages from childhood and marriage and those messages are a mix of what I observed and gathered through my life and some are words that we said, condemning looks, and actually laughter – laughter at, not with. One of the most deeply ingrained messages comes from an experience rather than spoken words. I was going on two. I’d been in a body cast for almost a year. The cast was removed for good on July 8th. On July 9th, my mother got a telegram which she thought was a birthday greeting from my father who was stationed in Germany. Instead, the sentence started “We regret to inform you.” Mama retreated to her room for several hours. Our aunt tended to my big sister and me. I have no recollection of the actual events. I learned in those two days that when a really good thing happens, it will be followed by something vastly worse than the gladness of the good thing. Maybe she hadn’t been even before that but my mother was never really emotionally available. I was terrified that if I didn’t make good grades or if I misbehaved badly enough Mama would leave. She ridiculed me in front of other people. She taught me to doubt my intuition about people. She would sometimes go days barely speaking to me. I grew up knowing that I was unloved and unsafe. Even so, I built a life that looked happy and successful. In my early 50s, I began to grasp how much richer my life might be, how much bigger my dreams could be. I found a therapist whom I trusted and worked with her for several years. It was around that time that I picked up writing again. I no longer think that a terrible thing always follows a really good thing. Recently, though, I visited a printer to find out about self-publishing a children’s book I’ve written. When I left, I was so elated that I had taken that step and so excited about the prospect that I felt like I was going to throw up. I know now that I can proceed to produce a short book and then work on other children’s books I’ve drafted. Stumbling blocks will come … they will also go.

— Marmar