I wasn’t really home sick, I had homework projects that I had to get finished. I had been stressing out over the projects so much and for so long that my mother finally pronounced that I had to take the day off from school.
I wasn’t supposed to be home. I wasn’t supposed to hear what my mother was saying on the phone. Normally when she was having problems she would talk in her bedroom. But she had forgotten that I was home.
My father was giving love poems and flowers to this girl at his work. She was pretty in ways that he wished my mother was. The way she was when he married her. He wasn’t one to cheat so he had been telling my mother about this. Like he was rubbing it in her face.
They went to weekly relationship counciling. The female psychologist was on my father’s side. Are you jelous of him having friends besides her? She wasn’t happy that my father wouldn’t do nice things for her. He didn’t make her love poems or buy her flowers.
The psychologist wanted her to stop taking her anti-depressents. My father agreed with her, he thought that the meds were messing with her mind. My mother did not want to stop taking the meds. She was so close to just killing herself that she worried that if she stopped taking them she finally would.
She couldn’t leave him because he was financially supporting us (the five kids). The church frowned on divorce, both sides of our family told her that divorce would mean she would go to hell. She was trapped where she was. And part of that was because of me.