A Mother’s Lament.

# I was going to post more Lorikeets today, seeing it’s Mother’s Day on Sunday I thought I would put this up instead. I will scatter the Lorikeet pictures throughout future writer’s room posts.

I had many discussions with my Mother, often it would come back to my birth. She went into labour on Christmas Eve while busily baking fruit mince tarts. When I came into the world half an hour into the 27th I was dead. The cord had wrapped around my neck and I was blue. After the doctor made some attempt to revive me he said to the nurse, ‘He’s dead, put him in the bucket.’ In delivery rooms there was always a bucket under the table for the afterbirth and the stillborn. In those days stillborn babies weren’t classed as a viable human being, they hadn’t taken a breath. After the doctor had left the nurse began resuscitation, half an hour later I breathed on my own. She had attended at the birth of my two older brothers who had died at a few months old.

In World War 2 mother worked as an army driver, and had sad recollections of ferrying hundreds of troops to the coast for D-Day. Then as the war progressed cleaning out the wrecked tanks returned to the UK, usually with a collection of body parts smeared inside. An abusive childhood and time in a mental institution ( for complaining about the abuse ) gave her a harsh worldview. My two brothers were interred with Grandfather, one laid in each of his arms. Apparently when I started breathing she told me her first thought was, that she’d brought another soldier into the world who would die young.

A Mother’s Lament.

I see you lying there.

Dead.

Covered in my blood.

My sacrifice for wars to come.

Another soldier, a killer, meat

for the butcher’s bill.

Stay dead, go, come back

but not as a lamb for the slaughter.

Breathe.

Stop.

You’ll be safe in the ground

with your brothers.

Christmas is ruined.

Go back to the world of choices.

Come back but not as you.

No, stay – I need you.

Breathe.

She’ll save you, she cares more than I.

I know what is coming,

I lost my purity, my mind, I can’t protect you

from that.

Your blue, wrinkled dead face annoys me.

Stop staring at me.

I feel your dead black eyes in my soul.

You see my weakness. I can’t protect you.

Go away.

You’re crying, breathing?

No.

Don’t.

Go back.

Find someone who wants a boy.

Who knows how to love.

Oh.

You’ve opened your mouth.

Come here, take this.

Suckle, feed, grow.

Oh God.

Why me?

Laurie Smith copyright 2013.

Yes that’s me and my mother. Once I was here what could she do but love me?

Laurie baby

11 thoughts on “A Mother’s Lament.

  1. Peggi Salva Tustan

    Wow, Laurie, what a remarkable story. God definitely wanted you to be in this world. I absolutely love the picture of you and mom. Who couldn’t love that sweet baby face.

    In learning to love and give, our souls are healed. I am saddened by your mother’s difficult life. And glad she had the opportunity to love and raise you.

    Like

    Reply
    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      Hi Peggy, thank you, I guess I’m still here for a reason. That picture is one of the nicest I have. Yes it was a sweet face with its ‘oh the water’s warm look.’ I honestly don’t know about her love, it’s a difficult question. However I’ll be putting another one up this week called Mother’s End. It says a few things. Thanks for popping in Peggi.
      Cheers
      Laurie.

      Like

      Reply
    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      Why thank you Susan, I try to get into the depth of emotion. When I think of my mother she was a complex person with a deep, shattered psyche. I don’t have to dig too deep into myself to find something of her that provokes raw feelings.
      Laurie.

      Like

      Reply
  2. patgarcia

    My Dearest Brother,

    I read this and my eyes filled with water. I am so thankful that that midwife took you out of the paid and began to bring resuscitation.

    Having shared with you some of your background, I have some idea of what you have experienced on this earth. This is one of the reason that I rejoice at your writing. To see you turn those things into golden memories that will help others find their way to life is wonderful.

    Thank you for not giving up; thank you for moving forward; thank you for living your dream.

    Shalom,
    Patti

    Like

    Reply
    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      Hey Sis, I’m so glad you liked this, I’ve been waiting for you to read it. I’m thankful too, it’s strange but my first ‘proper girlfriend’ was a nurse and so was Lorelle. Must be an attraction there. I hope somewhere along the line that more people find some comfort and a sense of ‘knowing’ that others have survived. That no matter what life throws your way, others have walked the same road.
      No, thank you for being supporting of me and taking the time to read my work.
      Love from your Bro.

      Like

      Reply

Tell me what you think.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s