Seeing that frigging handbag clutched determinedly against her stomach, had been the ‘light-bulb’ moment when I had known that mother was leaving us!
Mother was obviously intent on leaving the home, father and us!
Maybe it had been the haunted and apologetic expression plastered all over her face, but I had known in that instant exactly what was going to happen. Mother was leaving: she was going away! It had been like a ‘flashback’ to my birth, when I had been forcibly snatched away and seperated from my mother.
I just couldn’t allow this to happen again. I mean, was she serious?!
Had mother forgotten already that chaotic and dramatic time of her giving birth to me and being achingly seperated from me?
She had continued to stand there not uttering a single word.
I mean really, had mother lost her mind? Was she mad? Was she taking the frigging piss in as much as thinking that she could escape and leave us there?
In my state of panic, all of the oxygen had felt as if it had left my body and brain. It’s funny how panic attacks can manifest themselves into outraged anger almost immediately eh?
Suddenly, without warning, the whole darkened room had been filled with a high-pitched, piercing, desperate and pleading scream of: ‘Don’t go Mummy! Please Mummy, dont leave us! Mummy! Don’t go PLEASE!’.
As if having been shocked out of a trance, Mother had darted across the room as if with the intention of comforting and reassuring us.
My poor child’s mind had been on fire with fear, turmoil and confusion, and yes, justified anger and righteous indignation and disappointment that mother had actually contemplated the very thought of leaving us, much less to go ahead with such an erroneous act of betrayal and neglectful disloyalty and abandonment.
I mean, had she really lost her marbles or what?!