Home » Life » Repost: Untitled Xanga Snippet

Repost: Untitled Xanga Snippet

Repost: Untitled Xanga Snippet

My mama had always been mysterious, from the day I could remember to the day she drowned off the coast. She had these dark eyes that swallowed you in whole and eternally tanned skin like some tropical goddess crowned with thick black hair that moved like the ocean.

There was nothing other than that which really made her extraordinary. She was a very quiet woman who liked to read on the beach while I played and stood out on the balcony watching the sea at night, like a gull wanting to take flight.

There was a storm one night while she was driving home, a rock slide along the cliff bumbled the car right off the road and into the choppy waters. No one but Dad ever really missed her; she was too quiet I guess.

Growing up I was afraid of the ocean, the thing that took my mother from me, though I don’t really think she was ever truly mine to begin with. Her mind seemed to always be somewhere else. I’d gotten her dark hair but other than that I was all my father: pale freckled skin with green eyes and a lust to feel every part of life there was.

Now, looking in my own daughter’s eyes, I see that mystery again in those eyes that swallow you whole and knock the breath right out of your soul. She had my pale skin and her father’s lips, but everything else about her suggested she was a throw back to my mother, and therefore, just like my mother, not entirely mine.

Somehow, she was my daughter, and yet she was my mother’s daughter more than mine, which made no sense to me then, not much more now, but that doesn’t mean that it still isn’t the way of things.

Looking back through some old, oooold, posts from Xanga. Found this one that I wrote during my pregnancy with my eldest.


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