Two Octobers: A 2-Voice Narrative

A two-voice poem or narrative can take many different forms:  a discourse of two different voices, an expression of the outer voice vs. inner voice--a "what he said, what he thinks" approach; or the same voice at two different times in life, i.e. before and after an event, the childhood voice and the adult voice, etc.  This piece is an autobiographical reflection which needed to be written in the latter format.  

October 29, 1961                                                         October 29, 2011

"Five little pumpkins sitting on a gate,"                        “Sometimes healing comes through the rain,” 

we sing the song we learned yesterday                         the song lyrics loop over and over

in music class as we walk to school                              through my mind pushed through my 

sounding like naughty little angels.                               subconscious by the Holy Spirit,    

My neighbor Skippy and I                                            knowing I need them right now, this moment.  

cross the tracks after looking both ways,                      Trudging through wet gold and brown leaves 

continue past D'Abates' corner store                             while walking around Hudson Springs Park, 

where I go to buy Necco wafers when                         the sweet smell of autumn intoxicates me, 

I have a nickel.                                                              reminding me that life has its rewards 

Wearing rubbers over our shoes                                    if we slow down long enough to pay attention.

we slide two more blocks to                                          We had no choice, my sister Linda and I. 

South State Street School                                              Mom was found wandering the streets in 

through yellow and brown leaves wet                          Painesville at midnight last Thursday.  

from last night's rain.                                                    This time we couldn’t intervene.  

I love school even though                                            We had to allow her to experience 

my first grade teacher, Mrs. Bender,                            the consequences of her illness 

doesn't smile very much.                                              with no cushion of last minute enabling. 

I don't think she likes me,                                            “Your mother suffers from 

But I love being here, safe and warm,                         histrionic personality disorder, 

We sit in reading circles where                                    borderline personality disorder, and 

I wait eagerly for my turn to read                                obsessive compulsive disorder 

out loud the happy story about                                    which explains her extreme hoarding issues,” 

Dick and Jane and little Sister Sally and                      the social worker explained last summer 

the dog "See Spot run" across soft                              when her mental illness spiraled out of control—

picture pages.                                                               the prevarications,

They don't get yelled at like I do at home                    her involvement with strangers,

and Mother and Father in the story                              the daily abuse of loved ones and

don't yell and hit each other.                                        the social service systems

Wish my Mommy and Daddy were                            set up to assist seniors with valid needs.

more like them and that our house                              Lord,

had a white picket fence.                                             help me to separate the sin from the sinner—

My Mom is always busy                                             whom do we blame--our mother or her illness—

in the other room.                                                        when she files a lawsuit against a loved one 

She doesn't talk much except                                      for trivial matters

on the phone.                                                              or calls the police as a way of intimidating 

My baby sister Linda isn't old enough                        a friend for not returning her phone calls

to play with me yet.                                                    or fraudulently misuses funds assigned to her 

Mom doesn't pick her up much                                  for housing and transportation

when she cries.                                                           or asks a doctor to tell her daughter that if 

She cries a lot.                                                            she doesn’t get invited, she will commit suicide?

I wish I could pick her up, but I'm not                        How do we find a way to keep her safe

Allowed and I'm not tall enough to                            and preserve our sanity?

reach over the bars of the playpen                              Today, ironically, she herself showed us how
anyway.                                                                      October 29 by spinning such a tight web of 

So I practice my reading                                             deceptions on a cold and rainy autumn 

and I practice my letters,                                             night, she entangled herself and this time, 

legs outstretched under the coffee table,                     just this once, was unable to slip out

And I walk down to the playground                           from the slippery gossamer of sin and 

To meet up with Skippy.                                            deception and dementia.