When I was a little girl, I remember these words I did not understand slipping out of my mother's mouth. I remember cringing by the sound of her voice because I knew it meant something bad, but it wasn’t until my adulthood that I wrapped my head around their meaning.
My mother was in three terrible car accidents during my childhood and as a result, she lived her life in tremendous pain. She did her best to hide it, but there were days even her heroic bravery got kicked to the curb. These were the days when the pain manifested itself through the profanities.
Although I do not live my life in chronic pain, I experience one-off battles of pain to my body quite often. As a blind person, things sometimes just jump right out in front of you. It could be a tree branch, a telephone pole, a curb, a person, or a dog lying peacefully on the street next to its owner minding its own business.
Without even realizing what is happening, I’m tripping down a set of the stairs, ripping my pants and skinning my knee. I’m stepping off the bus straight into a pole breaking my glasses and cutting my eye. I’m cutting the doorway too close and walking straight into the metal doorframe of my office once again cutting my eye. So what do I do…I result to profanities. They are not pretty or very lady-like, but for whatever reason they seem to help the toxic anger release from my body.
Mom…I am sorry that I judged you all those years and never understand how you were living in chronic pain. Through my minor cuts and physical/emotional bruises, I finally understand.
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