A Mini-Memoir: The Pen and I, Part II
By Linda Saholt, East Sierra Branch
See September’s socalwritersshowcase for Part I
A week after the contest, Mom asked me for copies of the winning pieces – only the winners were worth saving, you see, because someone else had decided they were worthwhile, but everything lesser was just wasted paper. There were no copies to give her. She never mentioned the awards again.
That summer, she decided that since Shirley, the middle sibling, had become interested in the theater, I had to give up any interest in it, so I wouldn’t be “stealing her thunder.” Never mind that my interest predated hers by several years – Mom’s ultimatum was absolute. Never mind that Shirley’s primary interest was in performing on stage and mine was in writing and back-stage work. Never mind that, in normal families, working together on something is a great way to build up strong relationships. Mom was determined to keep us separated as much as possible. Her firestorm of criticism did its job, and I backed down as ordered. To this day, I have never written another play.
I was a newspaper reporter here in the IWV for some 10 years. Both Shirley and David also write, a talent we inherited from our father. Mom tried to pit us against each other, insisting Shirley was “the” writer in the family, there could only be one writer, and I “couldn’t compete.” I was writing professionally at the time, and knew any competition was entirely in Mom’s head. Finally Dad stood up and said he was proud all his children had turned into fine writers. Yay, Dad!
Today, Mom is 93 and still frantically looking for ANYthing to criticize. Dad, age 99, dealt with this by losing his hearing half a century ago.
I know now that Mom is mentally ill, and that deep down inside she has always been empty, hollow, small and scared, so she badgered, bullied and browbeat me in the belief that would make her feel big and powerful. She never did anything that would have earned her an award in her life, and apparently felt threatened when I achieved anything at all, so she lashed out. She was cruel to Shirley and David as well, but in different ways. We are all still struggling to heal from the damage she caused.
Getting out from under Mom’s mind-games and toxic tongue was one of the main reasons I left Ventura and moved out here. She cannot bear the desert’s heat, dry air or perceived barrenness, so she doesn’t visit. Lucky me! I get to enjoy the whole peaceful, quiet, elegant, Zen-like desert without fear. I live in splendid solitude amid a sense of closeness with the Great Spirit, which I find healing and soul-nourishing.
Life is good—finally!
Linda Saholt has written extensively as a reporter for
Ridgecrest, CA’s News Review and also as a contributor to
Ridgecrest Death Valley Magazine.