Originally posted on December 12, 2018 on Kuched. The version below is lovingly refreshed for non-judgmental palates of Truth Perpetuated. Thank you for reading. ♥
WHAT MOM SAID
Often enough I’d come to believe it didn’t take much in life to be happy.
Or, ignorant.
And, judgemental.
“I wasn’t wrong.”
ŚWINIA
Shveenn-ya. Polish-speak.
Pigs.
“Happy in their feces.”
Must be something to it.
MY LATE MOTHER HAD A FILTHY MOUTH
Alarmingly offensive …
It’d make sailors blush with envy.
“Horrifically embarrassing in public to everyone, but her.”
Unremorseful in private, in that contradictory way devoted Practitioners of Deniability claim sole provenance.
SWEARING, CUSSING, DEFAMING
Elevated profanity in Polish or Ukrainian – or whatever hybrid-bastardized Slavic tongue of the moment – she could, and did, with buoyant regularity …
“Curse anyone to damnation with extreme truculence and unmitigated prejudice.”
When the occasion prompted her.
Mostly Always unprovoked.
UNRELENTING IN HER GRATUITOUS TIRADES
Embittered with disdain and intolerance of whomever sauntered randomly across her path.
She was remarkable in this regard.
“A hypocrite capable of extraordinary deflection and dismissiveness, I came to study and understand as irrational.”
Like one of her sons (*). Hint: He writes a blog.
THE WHORES, THE POOR WHORES …
Were the most frequent and favored prey.
They were Kurwa. Brudne Kurwa.
“Dirty Whores.”
Because to mom, they were the only type. If you were a Whore, you were Dirty. Especially, if you were blonde.
AN UNFORGIVABLE CRIME
Against Humanity.
“Dirty Blonde Whore.”
Pure evil.
Mom’s illogic never did sit well with my naturally blonde sister.
SHE REALLY MEANT
Floozies.
Tarts.
Sluts is the word I’m looking for …
“Not the common ‘sex workers’ hustling the corners in Parkdale – Toronto’s once defiled Queen Street West corridor – known for its sketchy subculture of illicit narcotics trade, sex traffickers and row of halfway houses boarding patients released from the nearby mental health facility.”
HONEST WORKING GIRLS
Making a living for their pimps
“Respect and empathy from mom.”
She’d known a few.
Pimps, included.
MOM WASN’T COLOR-BLIND
Breeding Out Bigotry died in her generation …
“At The Hands of Dear Merciful God.”
Its where her journey unfolded.
Perdition wasn’t in the cards.
A DEVOUT HYPO-CHRISTIAN
At heart …
She had faults.
Forgivable faults I wouldn’t call adorable …
“I’ve inherited, honed, honored.”
HER TRUE BELIEF WAS CLOAKED
By ignorance, isolation and distrust, fermented by delusion and faith in men.
Whatever Great Epiphany lead her to seek enlightenment was rewarded with convictions.
“She heard God.”
Listened … Acted … With determined resolution backed by infallible strength, I doubt anyone knew the depth and capability.
PRAYERS
Beyond tolerance and acceptance.
To Divine Love realized.
“In Grace and Gratitude.”
Peace.
ASSUAGING THE CARNAGE
Of an uncertain fate by a trifecta of misogynistic captors left her emotionally imprisoned, spiritually nullified and financially destitute.
A single mother of six children, stricken down through the loss of trust and broken promises by these Cowardice, Shameless Bastards she’d once loved enough to bear their offspring.
“Way to go, Papa Lothario. How’s The Eternal Shame Suite treating you in Purgatory?”
Nice one. Slow clap …
HER HEART
Blossomed And Awakened To The Truth.
In unselfish deeds.
“Of giving generously – and doing for others – without expectations of being reciprocated or acknowledged.”
Affection – fragmented and wanting, was rarely never displayed openly within her family – is her legacy.
A DIVINE GIFT OF LOVE IS OUR FATE
Through her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren … of an unspoken bond, lives almost miraculously in her memory.
“Stubborn and contentious as she was, through these tenuous relations she fostered a Fragmented Family Perpetuated.”
Untenable and difficult as her. Like Swinia. We wouldn’t have it any other way …
PIGS ARE HAPPY IN THEIR DEFACTION
Is it such a heinous, undignified thing?
Perhaps, there’s merit.
“Recalibrate perspective from a swine’s side of the fence …”
Be humble. Grateful wherever we are at the moment. Content with simple pleasures. Don’t take ourselves seriously.
A COLONY OF FERAL PIGS
Inhabiting Big Major Cay – Pig Beach – in Exuma …
Are known to swim in its pristine turquoise waters
“With birds dancing and chirping on their backs.”
A beautiful thing these two.
SNORT IT OUT
Not in.
“Life isn’t always mud and sh!t.”
We have choices even when the pickings are slim and sloppy.
Stay dirty. Be clean. Oink.
Image by Lisa Larsen from Pixabay
I wish I could have met her – she sounds magnificent to me!! Reminds me of my Grandmother. Thanks for sharing in a touching and humorous manner! Be well – Tanya
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Tanya. Appreciate your comments. She was a bundle … raw is a good word. Uncensored … another. 😊🙏
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your Mom sounds Awesome! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Tara, she was what most people would politely say is colourful 😊 but also cunning in her ability to adapt, survive and be resourceful. 🙏
LikeLiked by 1 person
sounds like your mom had a great second half…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, life was much better the last 20 than the first bit for her. Thank you, Jim
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi, thought I’d glance through but I HAD to read it. Even more pertinent considering your comment above that it’s a true story. Kudos.
Thanks and much appreciated for sharing
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi. Thank you for visiting and reading. Appreciate your comments.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That title is phenomenal 😂😂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. True Story.
LikeLike
This piece is quite enthralling and exciting sir,keep up the fire,God bless you
LikeLike