Remember Me
“SOME PLACES we approach with dread: they carry the burden of our anxieties, if we have failed to shoulder them ourselves.
I am Hilary, daughter of a dead mother, scuffling through a pile of shoes at the bottom of a wardrobe. This is my home, no longer a home; it’s below ground level: I never thought of that. It was as if we lived in a hole, and a hole was all we were fit for. When I looked up to heaven, all I could see was the feet of strangers, passing behind bars. But here my mother lived... for years, slept and woke, and ate and cried and sometimes laughed. Here, every Saturday night, we played Monopoly for my sake, to keep me happy: and every Saturday night I bent the rules (which only I remembered) so she could nearly win but let me do so in the end. We were kind to each other, my mother and I, quite apart from what she felt she owed me for having brought me into the world she made; and what I owed her for having given me life, to make of what I could. I shall remember my mother with love, when I have my own children.MoreLess
I am Hilary, daughter of a dead mother, scuffling through a pile of shoes at the bottom of a wardrobe. This is my home, no longer a home; it’s below ground level: I never thought of that. It was as if we lived in a hole, and a hole was all we were fit for. When I looked up to heaven, all I could see was the feet of strangers, passing behind bars. But here my mother lived... for years, slept and woke, and ate and cried and sometimes laughed. Here, every Saturday night, we played Monopoly for my sake, to keep me happy: and every Saturday night I bent the rules (which only I remembered) so she could nearly win but let me do so in the end. We were kind to each other, my mother and I, quite apart from what she felt she owed me for having brought me into the world she made; and what I owed her for having given me life, to make of what I could. I shall remember my mother with love, when I have my own children.MoreLess
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