|
Quarter-Light -- ©Brenda Carter  By the time I add the final ingredients to the pot, my mind is calm, my thoughts are ordered. E-mail wins out over the phone because I want to minimize the chance of misspeaking and because I want to give Sandy something to hold on to. Also, I'm afraid of being silenced by emotion again. When I sit down to write, I'm ready to ask the questions I need answered and to point towards a direction we can take together.
*** I count the days of silence, eleven of them, before a message from Sandy shows up in my e-mail. 1:36 AM
Dear Jill, It's taken me a long time to answer your letter, but I haven't known how to respond to the anger you dumped on me. I finally decided you have your own issues and I can't resolve them for you. That's something you need to do for yourself. Obviously we disagree. I have a problem in my life that I view as gender confusion resulting from abandonment by my parents. It's not my identity, it's the result of wounding, nothing more than a symptom of a damaged heart. We've always tried to be there for each other, but that doesn't give you permission to direct your pent-up rage at me. I don't understand what's going on with you, but I need it to stop. Sandy
|
