Interesting Things in the Shower

There is a turkey…in my bathtub…as I write this. Adam has a turkey fryer that he is going to use to deep fry our Thanksgiving turkey, tomorrow. The turkey has to be completely thawed, or else things can go bad, real quick. The oil would splatter, possibly even explode. We don’t want that! So, there’s a turkey thawing in my bathtub.

When Adam and I were in the shower, last night, the topic of “earliest memories” came up. I started to tell him about, what I believe, is my earliest memory. It was my third birthday. My brother and I were playing, and I ran into the dining room. My mother was wrapping a present. It was one of those little magnetic chalkboard toys, with all the magnetic letters and shapes. It had a drawer in it, where the chalk and letters could be stored. It isn’t the gift that makes it such a significant memory, though. My mom was nice to me. I remember she talked to me in a sweet, gentle voice. She smiled. She wasn’t angry. That came as such a surprise to me, even at that age, it became a memory I held onto forever. Then, I casually started to talk to Adam about some other random childhood things. My dad wasn’t home as much, when I was little. I have no memories of ever having my mom take me to bed, tuck me in, kiss or hug me goodnight. I assume, she must’ve, when I was tiny? I just know that I didn’t grow up being told goodnight. I took myself to bed. My dad was always loving, affectionate, kind. I hadn’t ever stopped to wonder why that seemed to stop. As I talked about these things, with Adam, I realized, it was because it made my mother angry, when my dad showed me affection. I learned to avoid snuggling him. I would tense up and freeze, when he’d hug me or play with my hair. I’ve carried a lot of guilt about those things. I didn’t know why I’d shut him out the way I had, until it dawned on me, because I didn’t want to make my mother angry. I would see my sister sitting in his lap, riding with him to run errands, getting all the affection I refused from him. I’d feel sad and a little jealous, sometimes. I blamed myself, though. It wasn’t until I got older and moved out, my dad and I formed a relationship that was independent of my mother, and her watchful eyes.

I was processing all of this information, all of these thoughts and memories, while I talked to Adam. I wasn’t upset. I wasn’t crying. Truthfully, I was just “matter of fact”, about it all. I’ve never shared those things with Adam. Hell, I hadn’t even known some of it, until I took the time to consider it, last night. Adam got so quiet. He looked very sad, almost angry even. I stopped talking, then. We silently finished our shower. I turned the water off, and before I could step out, Adam pulled me into his arms. He told me “I will never be mean to you. I will always tell you goodnight.” He had the saddest look in his eyes. I’m not sure whether it’s a good idea to just toss out information like that again? I felt sorry that I’d upset Adam. I don’t know if I’m numb, over it, or maybe I pushed it back down into that deep place inside me where I usually store things like I told Adam? I don’t feel sad today, though. I’m good! I’m doing my best to make sure that Adam can see that.