The foundation of our existence shook, the pillars & posts of transparency tumbled around me. I picked up a brick, wanting to hurl it like a weapon, only to find that it had turned to sand.
I knew it was required that she seek my forgiveness before God’s. I also knew God would forgive whosoever He chose to forgive, but that I was required to forgive all.
David’s money had kept my father alive, tethering my mother to the man who stood in their way, or rather, hovered between them.
My mother had lived a life of convenience, of self-flagellation by denying herself the sanctity of marriage but not of the marriage bed. Just as she had wanted to do away with Caitlin, she was now going to do away with my father.
She had never annulled the marriage, for she could not make her children bastards as legitimate children were considered status symbols–just as Mother had chosen the label of widow over adulteress.
She’d convinced herself that because he was brain-dead, his soul had gone on, just as she’d taught her girls that unChristian women, to soothe their consciences, had convinced themselves that unborn babies were nothing but a clump of cells when wasn’t that what we all were–just many more of them.
I grieved for the father who had never been lost to me at all—the father I was just now finding, only to lose him all over again.