i need a piece of liver, because mine is shot. she told me.
your sister said she'd give me a piece of hers, and i can't figure out why you don't love me enough to offer me a piece of yours. this is why i am so much closer to clarissa than you.
i sat, stunned. all of that swirled around in my head, trying to make sense of what is on, what she was babbling about.
i leaned forward, and spoke slowly. mother, i said to her, trying to keep my temper, mother--i can't give you a piece of my liver because our blood types don't match, because i am 25 and you are 65, so why should i give up a huge part of myself and finally, i have cancer. but, i'm betting my cancer riddled liver is still in better shape than clarissa's.... or have you put aside the fact she's a hard core drinker??
she blinked once. twice. settling into her chair, she spoke with dismissal of my comments-- perhaps you are right, but, at LEAST she offered.
i knew then i'd never win, and left knowing i was finally okay with my decision to not speak to either of them ever again. with that thought, there came the discovery i was smiling...and life looked good.
(okay, i adjusted the last sentence... )
As one of three sisters, this story spoke to me of the constant comparisons and not always subtle competition to be the best child, the favored child. I long since gave up the effort, realizing it was a game I could not win, and that IS freeing. Good story!
ReplyDeleteI was an only child who was never good enough for my mother. It isn't only sisters who get that kind shit from their narcissistic mothers. Bad mothers are equal opportunity traumatizers and life ruiners.
ReplyDeleteFine piece of writing!