The Dreamer

Chapter 30

Sarah made it home feeling a mix of emotions. Ali had told her to just sleep for the day and resume everything tomorrow. So she put her brush aside and decided she won't finish her painting today. She stood in front of the almost empty canvas. Maybe this is not a passion for me. She dropped her weight on the couch and let her gaze drift.

Memories of Martha crying clouded her mind. She had never seem her mother be so... human. Maybe I can find forgiveness in my heart. As soon as the thought entered her mind, she rejected it with all her strength. I can't. The memories of the pains he felt through her childhood came through so strong that she could physically feel a sharp pain in her chest. She caressed her breastbone and took a deep breath. I just can't forgive her. It's too painful. She remembered Ali's words telling her she could still feel the pain. So she did. She closed her eyes and set every intention in feeling the pain, she felt close to shaking just to think about what was in her heart. Then it all turned to rage. I didn't deserve it. Without much though she slapped her arm to the side and knocked a lamp against the wall, shattering it to pieces.

She froze in place with her eyes wide open and surprised about her reaction; it didn't even feel like it was her but rather it came out of nowhere, from some place she didn't know existed. She kept her gaze on the lamp and gently regained her composure. She put her arm down and sighed out her frustration. She would need to clean the mess and get a new lamp; however, something felt great, freeing.

I mean, I will already have some cleaning to do, she though as she extended her arm and gently slid a vase from a table. It felt to the floor and broke, but it didn't shatter much. She was in shock to realize she was disappointed about it. I am sick, she though; nonetheless, she stood up and opened a cabinet. She grabbed a mug and threw it to the sink. It broke. She grabbed a second mug and tried again; this time it shattered; then a third one.

"Oh my God, what am I doing?" she said aloud, putting her hands on the edge of the sink. She stared at the pieces of glass. She saw herself in the broken mugs. I am broken. Then a realization came through. No, I am not broken. I am healing, just like Martha. Her mother was indeed healing. Sarah though back to her childhood and compared Martha to the woman she was now. She was indeed working on herself; and if her life had been as horrible as she suggested, then Martha had done a hell of a work to get where she is. I guess she is trying. Hurt people hurt people after all. She sat back in the couch and looked at the glass spread all over. My mother hurt me because she didn't know anything else on how to be a better version if herself, and then, she swallowed hard. Then I hurt my daughter because I didn't feel I was good enough. I could have tried harder to rebuild a relationship with her. I just gave up.

Just as she wanted Jessica's compassion and forgiveness, she felt her own mother needed the same. Martha had never shown any interest on rebuilding a relationship. But neither did I with my own daughter. She felt Martha was a mirror she didn't want to look at. Out of nowhere, she felt deep compassion for her mother and whatever she went through that turned her into a devious mother. Sarah's only hope was that her daughter would not end up being a shitty mother too. But would she even live enough to be a mother? Sarah sent the though away. She couldn't allow herself to lose hope.

I hope you will be okay, she thought but at the same time she knew there was nothing she could do about whatever happened next. She had to accept once and for all, that life can end at any minute for anybody, and her daughter was no exception.

She closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind, but it sounded like there was an entire circus in her head. Nonetheless, she kept her eyes tight shut. Within minutes she was snoring softly.