Diamonds And Pearls

A mother who fights with repeating the past

Claire reached the motel and had one overnight bag. She wasn't even sure what she packed, nor did she care. The bag was tossed on the floor and she opened the bottle of Jack she purchased on her way.
After drinking half the bottle she reached for a pen and paper that was carefully purchased for this very occasion. Where to start.

Dear Amelia:

  I don't mean to be a bad mother to you. Sometimes everything is just too much to handle. I know I put you in a position you are too young to handle. It is truly un fair of me, I know. I don't think I was meant to be a mom really. Maybe that goes with how my own mother treated me. You deserve more than this. Soon you will fall in love and I hope you don't make my mistakes. Find someone who loves you for everything you are.
It isn't you father's fault you know. He loves us all. I have put him in a bad position. He tries so hard to love me, and I don't know how to love him back. His drinking has become his coping skills to handle what I have never been able to give him.
Everything has become a crazy mess. Yesterday when your baby brother became sick and then your sister. The dirty diapers and screaming. I just thought this could not be for the rest of my life. Maybe I am a coward, but I am okay with that. Nothing seems real, it is all a bad dream.
I can't be a wife and a mother with so much responsibility. I am meant to be draped with diamonds and pearls. Parties and nice houses. Beautiful clothes, nice cars.
The thought of continuing living this life of barely making it on your father's wages and screaming kids always pulling at my apron strings. It is a living hell. I probably sound selfish but these are my thoughts. I can't continue to ignore them any longer.
I hope you are happy one day and you forgive me for this horrible thing I have done. Walking out on you is not because I don't love you. This is better for you. Tell your father I love him dearly and I want him to be happy with someone who has a carefree heart.

Love,
Claire
your mother

Claire took out a picture of her children and placed it on the night stand. She wanted to see them and she wanted to love them the way a mother should.
Pouring another drink she inhaled it in one shot. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and choking on the burn going down her throat.
She looks in the mirror and sees a tired unhappy woman. Grabbing her hair and pulling back away from her face; she reaches into her makeup back and begins to apply makeup. She wasn't sure how long it took her but she was satisfied with the finished product.

Taking out the one dress she owned,  she carefully put it on and twirled in front of the mirror.
You see how stunning you are Claire? Look at yourself. This is who you really are.
The last thing was the one gift she had ever treasured. A necklace that had diamonds and pearls strung all the way through it. She carefully drapes it around her neck, remembering the day her father gave it to her. The only thing she was left with when her mother left. She walked out. Left Claire to tend to her heartbroken father. He began to drink and they lost everything; their glorious home, cars, wealth, and pride.

Claire turns on the radio and danced by herself in the room. Not a care in the world. She drank more and eventually passed out from exhaustion.
In the early morning, Claire woke up. Disorientated with a headache she reached for a bottle of water. It wasn't enough, so she made coffee that was left on the table. In the bathroom she gazed at herself and wondered how she became so crazy.

The next three days were repetitions of the first night. On the fourth day she showered, changed in fresh clothes. Re read the letter she wrote to her daughter and tore it up and put it in the garbage. The picture of her children was placed carefully back in her purse. Not before kissing it and holding it to her chest.
She drove home and sighed deeply and sat there staring at the house, knowing she had to face everyone. She smiled when she opened the front door and the kids ran to her with such happiness. Her oldest Amelia looked up at her carefully and whispered, “Mama, did you have a good time? You weren't gone that long this time. “

“Yes darling, I had a good time. Where is your father?”

“He is sleeping off his last night's drinking. I offered him food but he didn't want to eat.”

“You did well, Amelia. Let's get some dinner cooked and settle in for a movie. I want to spend the night with my children. What would I do without you?”

Amelia felt proud. She held down the fort once again. Her mother will be happy, but for how long she wasn't sure.