Mom mentioned that she used to have dreams of my grandfather sneaking out at night. I told her that they were not dreams, but that she did see him sneak out when my grandmother, who always took sleeping pills, was asleep.
She talked about him sneaking out at night to visit another woman,
‘Fat Amanda.’ She also talked about walking in on her father, as he and her grandmother were involved in fellatio. She said her grandmother looked willing. She thought this was between her grandmother and her father and had left the house again, to return an hour later. She said all was as if nothing had happened. She never mentioned it or talked to her grandmother about it. She had been fourteen years old.
I asked if he had ever hurt her. She answered, “That was so long ago that it doesn’t make much of a difference anymore. It was simply too long ago.”
I think I can see how she would want to believe that her grandmother was willing, rather than believe her father forced himself on an eighty-seven-year-old woman. What a terrible life my mom must have had.
I love you, Mom; I will never tell you my story. I think you deserve to forget and live what is left of your life in peace. Time to heal you too, Mom. My anger is gone. There is only sadness and a feeling of admiration for your courage and your zest for life, in spite of it all.
Nov. 16, 2000 (Computer Journal)