#glimesesofthepast

I remember the first memory of being shaken by my mother. I was probably between two and three because my brother had not been born yet. I can’t say if she ever shook me before; I hope not. 

In any case, I remember it vividly; it was terrifying. She grabbed me by my shirt, lifted me up in the air, and just shook me as she screamed to my face. 

But what shook my thoughts the most was what came afterward. Her laughing, mocking me when I grabbed my shirt to describe, with tears, what she had done. I could not speak. Yet in my mind, I knew, amidst confusion, that something was wrong with this person. My mother.