If I had to describe myself, it would be in a word that has many meanings with a complexity which falls off the tongue.
A word made up of many elements, is deceptive in appearance, and creates an illusion from the imagination.
My word would be Phantasmagoric. ~Summer Ross

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Its in the details

With my poem coming out in a week and a half, I thought maybe I should take some time out and let you know more about me. As I am apposed to giving out truly vital information online, I don't mind people knowing aspects of my life. It helps to write about them even. The self reflection of memories can be a great source as a writer.

So with this in mind, my poem is about my mother. I always had a great relationship with her. She was in part my inspiration for most of the things I have written in the last 8 years. We argued alot, but she was my mom.

Her name was Marlene, Most of our younger years we spent jumping house to house and for her man to man. However, she managed to clear that up by marrying her third husband which gave me the gift of the man I now call my father. What could be crucial to know is I have lost both of my biological parents. I do not see this as good or bad, only that it is what happened.

My mother was a bad alcoholic. She started at 9 am most days and didn't quite til many hours into the night. When I was younger it was fun, we'd sit outside suntanning with margaritas on  her blue 72 mustang.

As I grew up, married, and had my first child I found the flaw in this. She used to babysit my daughter while I worked for $5.15 at the local mcdonalds. I came to pick my daughter up once and she had been drinking beer. She almost dropped my daughter who was only 9 months old. I of course made it into a fight and told her she had a serious problem with alcohol and needed to get help.
Needless to say she didn't.

She died 2 months later. I  don't remember much of things from her, my mind has blocked nearly everything from me, but I remember the call.
I was working the closing shift. I swept the front lobby and was headed to the back to finish. The phone rang and I picked it up.

It was my sister. She claimed my mother was in a car accident drinking and driving. Now heres what I knew of my mother at this point. She drank, but only once in her life drove while intoxicated. She was put in jail and claimed she would never be there again. But like a wise gal I told my sister "Good I hope she learns her lesson"

It was that moment when my sister claimed to have another call coming in, so I patiently waited. Seconds later my sister was back on the line screaming "Mom's dead!"
The details after went something like disbelief and then anger. I yelled at the hospital staff, cursed at the sherriff, and finally came to realize she was gone. Only it was surreal at the point. Even today it is...its one of those things you don't think would happen to you, then -bam- there it is, only even now its like  abad movie being played out in my head.

After my temperal breakdown, which included pinning the poor sap at the memorial to a wall because he refused to allow me to see her body, I composed myself enough to eat lunch and come back to "view" my mother.
The one thing I'll never forget is her face that day.

She was covered from toe to neck in a blue cloth. Laying, almost asleep like, on the table in a spare viewing room. I walked up to it and at first she looked to be asleep. But as I came closer to her I could see the scratches still bloodied from the glass all around her mouth, which was turned up in a half drunkin smile. Her forehead was a blue and black bulge as big as a soft ball.
My brother had to carry me from the room, I wouldn't budge I stood there just waiting for her to wake up, open her eyes, move  a finger, anything.

Don't feel bad about this post, its details, memories pent up that I use. And this is what my poem "Whiskey Kisses" is about, The aftermath so to say but without all the gory details.
Its a blessing to be able to use this or any number of my memories in my writing. Its part of what helps me write. My secret weapon. :)


Jules said...

Well, I'm sorry but I can't help but feel sad. :( I understand your reasoning but still to me sad.

Here's a hug just because I understand.
Jules @ Trying To Get Over The Rainbow

Julie Jabbers said...

Thank you for sharing big parts of your life that no doubt, bring up many emotions, tattoo imprints in our mind and that are able to inspire you to write poetry. What a great outpouring, and resource to get the details out. I haven't lost my mother yet, but we have lived far away from each other the past 25 years, sadly, a distant relationship. I bet you're an awesome mother and do a great job of communicating your love to your child. I look forward to reading Whiskey Kisses

Old Kitty said...

I'm so sorry for your loss. It's heartbreaking to watch someone you are bound to by ties of love and blood suffer as your mother has and not be able to help or understand. I hope you are ok. I wish you all the best with your poem - great title btw - and your writing.

Take care

Clarissa Draper said...

If your poem is as powerful as what you related right here, it's one worth reading.


Liz Fichera said...

Thanks for sharing something so personal. I look forward to reading your poem. xo

Renae said...

Well I must say your secret weapon worked because this was wonderful! Good luck with the release of your poem, how exciting!

Mason Canyon said...

Sometimes it does help just to get things out. I can see where you could draw from this. This is very emotional, thanks for sharing. Congratulations on the upcoming release of your poem. Wishing you much success with it and all of your writing.

Thoughts in Progress

Summer Ross said...

Jules~~ Hugs back

Julie, Liz, Renae, and Mason~~ Thank you so much for reading and commenting!

Old Kitty~~ I'm doing okay. It creeps into my writing and I use it. which I think helps me heal.

Clarissa~~ I hope so :)

Michelle said...

Getting it all out is so good for you!! And thankfully you have the gift of writing and poetry to express your thoughts. Thank you for sharing a bit of your story with us! I love that you 'use it'.

I think I came in late, as usual... where is your poem going to be published? I don't want to miss it!

Summer Ross said...

Michelle- no worries, I'll post more about it as it comes closer.


Summer, I was your mom. By the grace of God I found deliverance from alcohol over 32 years ago.

God bless you and your family


Ellie said...

Thank you for sharing this with us. It must have been very difficult, and I'm so sorry to read about the hard times and your loss. I echo Clarissa's comments, if your poem is filled with the same raw emotions it will be a powerful piece of writing.


Summer Ross said...

The old geezer~~ I'm very glad you did! congrats on 32 years!

Ellie~~Thank you

RaShelle said...

Hey Summer - Thenks for sharing the memories of your mom. xoxo

px: I have an award for you.

RosieC said...

Thanks for sharing. I'm glad you could take something so emotional and use it for yourself instead of letting it use you. That's something I've struggled with since my father died almost two years ago.

Francine said...


Thanks for sharing this heart-rending post - passing on of parents is something not easy to discuss outside of family circles, though I imagine the writing of the poem has been infinitely cathartic and as heart-rending as this post is for us: your other family!


mytressa said...

Hi, came here by way of Coming Down the Mountain. Hope you don't mind.

I'm sorry for your loss, but thank you for opening up and sharing this with everyone! I look forward to reading your poem and getting to know you more through your posts. :)

Jemi Fraser said...

You are one strong lady. I'm so glad you are able to see all aspects of your mom, not just the drinking. I'm so sorry you had to go through any of this though. It can't have been easy. My hopes are with you that you will continue to heal and grow. Stay strong.

Melissa J. Cunningham said...

What a beautiful post, and how painful. It sounds like you've come to peace with it all.

My mom died from breast cancer two weeks before my wedding. I understand what it means to live without your mom, even as an adult it's hard.

Thank you for sharing this. It means a lot to me that you did.

Powdered Toast Man said...

It's good that you can use stuff like that to write about. Is it wrong that I feel bad that the mustang was wrecked?

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