Short Story

BARREN FIELDS

The Sicilian Storyteller
Image credit: mbll. @ Pixabay

I’m writing this letter to you, Mother, knowing it will never be sent; you’re gone now so there is no one to send it to but still, some words needed to be said.

We scattered your ashes by that old tree that stands alone in a barren field, the tree you always compared yourself to whenever we drove by; how many times did I have to hear you make a comment about that damn tree?

It was rough growing up thinking I was unloved by you and there were times I hated you for that; for years I thought it was something I had done but now realize it was something you couldn’t do – let your guard down and your emotions out and show me a mother’s love.

My teen years were the turning point for me because I got out of the house and freed myself of the strange power you had over me; how I resented you and your aloofness …. so many years wasted …. and now as I look back, I feel sorry for you because you chose to keep yourself deeply rooted behind the walls you built.

I remember once overhearing a fight you had with Dad, an argument about how it was – as you put it – ‘unmanly’ of him to dote over me; that was the only time I saw Dad get angry, shouting at you that he had to shower me with the love of two parents because you were unable or unwilling to express your love.

Well, Mother, I’m happy to say I have a warm and loving family, I’m nothing like you and I will not spend my life wondering how things could have been different if you had torn down those walls you hid behind; now you’re gone, your ashes cast into the wind, and I will be the one who will rest peacefully.

NAR © 2023

What do you see #209 – October 23,2023
Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt!

This is an AI Midjourney version of the song “Barren Field”:

54 thoughts on “BARREN FIELDS”

  1. A sad start to life 🙁

    I’m impressed by the video. I’m invited to a meeting this week to discuss artists and AI. Wanna come?

    AI & Creativity: Protecting Creators in the Age of AI will bring together artists, writers and leaders working across the Creative Industries to discuss and highlight creators’ unique insights and experiences, which are pivotal to ensuring AI develops to be fair and equitable for all.

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  2. Pingback: WDYS # 209 -A Roundup post – Keep it alive

  6. Touching Six.
    Surely the saving grace of such a sad, (and all too frequent), an experience is the protagonist was able to acquire a perspective that broke the chains worn since childhood.
    The true tragedy was not merely how it afflicted the mother but how, in all too human a drive, she chose to share her conceit with the rest of her family.

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    1. Fascinating how many women were like that.
      I wonder if it’s more prominent in a certain generation.
      My mother was born in 1917, dropped out of school at age 12 during the Great Depression to care for her sick mother, married in 1939, lost her first baby at the age of 2 and watched her husband leave to fight in WWII.
      Her life was not full of shits and giggles and whatever she did as time went on was out of self-preservation. The problem with building walls is nothing gets in to hurt, but nothing gets out either.
      Thanks for sharing, Chris

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  13. Very moving, Nancy.
    I’m feeling she did what she thought right. Paths and directions. If things were different back then, they could be very different now.
    I waffle, though. My words aren’t flowing correctly this evening.
    I love the video. I haven’t heard that song before.

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    1. No waffling, Tom. You were spot on with your assessment: she did what she thought was right. I will add one more point to that: she did the best she could.
      I’d never seen the video before, either; I got very lucky with that one as I felt it fit the story perfectly.
      Thanks for your thoughts, Tom. Much appreciated.

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      1. Yes, if it can ever really happen. I know my husband’s mother was a narcissist, a toxic person who my husband continually tried to please right up to the end of her life. The wounds and scars will always be there, even though years of therapy have helped him to understand the roots of her behaviors. When she went, I think the first thing he felt was relief, sad to say.

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  19. . . . and when she was gone, I felt only a little loss. She was always there to help, it now seems over 30 years later. Only now do I realize that somewhere there was unexpressed love never reciprocated. How much a touch, a hug would have mattered.

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    1. Thank you for that poignant comment, Allen.
      So many of our parents, especially our mothers, were tethered by things that were invisible to us as children. I always knew my mother’s life was a difficult one; it’s only in the last 15 years that I have truly realized and come to terms (for the most part!) with how difficult it was. She really did try her best.

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      1. The problem is, sis, that they’re gone now, and you can’t prop them up on the sofa like a bean bag, and have an adult to adult conversation anymore, tell them how much they screwed … wait can I say screwed in here … is this my blog or yours…. I need to go stir the sauce. Laters!

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    1. Si, caro.
      Memories run very deep and sometimes,
      in moments of stress or vulnerability, they resurface.

      She could not help herself, but she tried her best
      and in many ways she was a good mother; she did her ‘duty’.

      Sometimes I blow my own mind with my video choices! 😂 🤯

      Grazie infinite, caro ❤︎

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