The true story continues of Sarah, and her young teenage daughter, Grace back in the 1970s. During her high school years, Grace struggled to cope with her school work around her mother’s mental ill health. She couldn’t wait to finish her tenth year of high school so she could start work, leave home, rent a unit and gain her independence away from her mother and away from the strict religion her family followed. Beverley Joy
Book Excerpt – The Wilted Rose Part 3 – The Wilted Rose
At lunchtime the next day, Grace sat in the schoolyard with her friends.
‘Hey Grace, why was your mum taken away in an ambulance yesterday?’
‘What?’ She stammered.
‘My mum saw it. And a few people have been talking about it around the school. What happened?’
Grace hesitated, hastily concocting an answer.
‘She fell down some steps. That’s why the ambulance took her away.’
Grace remained quiet, munching away on her sandwiches as the other girls continued their conversation. It was only now that she was beginning to realize the full extent of her mother’s illness.
The last few years had been a yoyo of her mother getting sick and well, sick and well, over and over throughout each year.
‘Will it ever stop.’ Grace thought.
To be continued…
Kate Kelsen Author © All Rights Reserved
Poem – Why Mummy?
Mum, why did you send me to the orphanage?
I got left there, cared for by people unknown
I was so young. I needed your love?
Mum, why didn’t you get out of bed
After my baby brother died
Wasn’t I worthy of your time?
I was only 3, you forgot about me.
Mum, why did you throw the cup at me?
I was excited about going to kindy
I was only 5. Why be so unkind?
Mum, why didn’t you join in my birthday party?
I looked for you, but my aunty said
You were not feeling well and resting in bed
I was only 6, you could have made an effort?
Mum, why did you make me iron the hankies
Knowing I’d burn my fingers trying
I was only 8, for goodness sake.
Mum, why did you take back the dress you bought me
And say to me ‘It’s mine, not yours?’
I was only 9, you stole what was mine.
Mum, why did you give to our dog my favourite stuffed toy
Then watch him chew it up
I was only 12, you broke my heart.
Mum, why did you take the overdose
I thought you were dead, lying on the floor
I came home from school to have lunch with you
I was only 15, was I not worth living for?
Mum, why did you dose up my baby daughter
With pain medicine, while I was at work
I had to leave my job to protect her from you
I needed your help, but I couldn’t trust you.
Mum, why did you go back to bed
When I’d visit with your granddaughter?
We waited and hoped for your company
But we waited in vain. So, we stopped coming your way.
Beverley Joy of Simply Story Poetry © All rights Reserved