Even as a child, I was fascinated by words. They are used, in various combinations, to voice our thoughts and feelings. But my childhood did not allow me to learn to say the words I feel.
Many worthy words went unused by my family.
Yet other words – those that were often said -- were wounding.
Junkie.
Cock Sucker.
Mother Fucker.
Black Bitch.
Retarded.
Stupid.
Ugly.
Monkey.
Good for nothing, son of a bitch.
Never gonna be nothing.
Or, "You're going to be just like your mother." Words that worry me to this day.
There is something wrong with having thousands of words to say, but the inability to say them. Sitting in a chair beside my grandmother's death bed, I told her I loved her over and over again. But the words never left my lips. They stayed inside me.
Unintentionally, I gave back to her what she gave us all those years – unworthy silence.
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