I watch my babies play in the sunlight from the window and I’m grateful they’re so little and cannot absorb what’s happening around them. The worst thing in their world is wanting the same toy at the same time. The most upsetting thing in their world is when Mom is gone from their sight for more than five minutes. What would they do if something happened to me? I wonder about that more and more.
I decide to sit down and write a letter. A letter to put among my things…just in case. A letter that details some of the things I’ve suffered. A letter that informs whoever reads it that if I’m found dead, my husband has been planning this moment for a long time and they need look no further. A letter telling them to take my babies to my parents, at this address, in my hometown. I can’t think of anywhere else they could go where they will be looked after properly.
Writing this breaks my heart…Tears of anger and extreme sadness flow like the ink on my paper. “Why Mom cwy?” from Linus and “Mom cwy…” from “echo Boo” shakes me up. I don’t let them see me cry. Now they’ve caught me. I scoop them up and tell them I have a headache. They kiss my forehead and face to make it “all bedder.” It only succeeds in making me cry more. I love these two more than life. I wish I could magically change things and give them much more and so much better.
They decide that brushing my hair will help. My hair is growing back in and I’ve cut the rest shorter. It doesn’t look so bad anymore. They brush my hair and giggle and if I did have a headache, it would be gone now under the loving care they give me. “Hegache all gone Mom?” they ask and I say “All gone!” They applaud and feel happy about what they’ve accomplished. My heart is about to burst and I busy myself with lunch to avoid more tears.
When they are down for their nap, I finish my letter. As I reread it, I’m shocked that this is written by me. How can this be? I am frozen for a moment in time, trying to get my head around the fact that this letter is necessary. That I am so afraid something will indeed happen to me. How in the world am I going to continue this charade? How am I going to prevent the horror that I see happening? How am I going to make it to the other side? As I always do when it’s too much for me to deal with, I go into the bathroom and throw up. And I cry. And I wish to God I wasn’t so damn weak, that I could leave knowing he would not harm anyone else.
I sign and date that letter, then I realize I will have to hide it where he cannot find it, but those who find my body can. On the envelop I write “In case of my untimely death” and hide it in my underwear for now. He won’t go there…then I notice my keepsakes I had hidden there are gone. I tear apart the dresser. My grandfather’s war medal, the locket he gave me when I was little, the only things I have in this world, gone…
I tape the letter under the drawer for safe keeping. Seething with anger I wait for him to come home…
Next -> Confrontation
Tags: charade, frozen in time, headache, letter, untimely death