The Three Bears
Ellen Ndeto Jan 24 Once upon a time not far from the woods there lived three bears. they were friendly and very rich. Everybody came to their town just to have cakes and a party. But day after day they got poorer and one day they died. Welp. A therapist would have a field day with this one! I'll save you the sessions and sum up the message: In Kenya, both parents worked so we had money. In Kenya, we had lots of family. My father was one of 20 and they all had wives and husbands and children. And they all had children who had wives and husbands and children. Every gathering was a massive celebration. And then my mother left my father, because of his aforementioned bad choices, and we moved to America to live with my mother's mother and the parties and cake stopped. Poor me. It was years before I learned all the ins and outs of my parent's relationship and understood that leaving him, leaving Kenya, was the best choice my mother could have made. But, at that young and tender age, I only recognized the loss of cakes and parties. Now, at my not so young and almost brittle age, I understand the need behind the choice she made. I know it was the right choice, the only choice to have made. Sadly, though, I still feel the loss and freedom of parties and cake and celebrations without (knowing) the inner angst of all the adult players... Yeah, yeah. Poor me. Side note: That house and those lollipop trees and the smoke from the chimney... simply amazing!
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
April 2019
Categories
All
|