by Megan Mcdiarmid

Created on: June 09, 2009

I can still see the day that daddy came for mama's forgiveness. It was in 1945 in our South Carolina farm home. I was eight years old and I can still see it like it was yesterday.

Daddy came in the door of our country house, he hadnt been home in two months. He kissed my sisters on their heads and put his hand on my shoulder.

"Where's your mama?" He asked me. I wouldn't look at that man. I wouldn't pay him attention after what he did to me. I simply pointed at the back door and he walked away. A few moments after he left I followed him. I wanted to make sure mama was going to be okay. If he hurt her again, I would have stopped him. I don't remember what I planned to do, but I would stop him. I hid behind the shed door and watched as he walked out to mama in our potato field. I had been taking a break from helping mama when he came. I was close enough to them that I could hear everything and I could see mama perfectly. The back of Daddy's shaggy, greasy head was facing me so I couldn't see his face. I didn't want to see his face. Daddy was talking real low, so I couldn't hear a single word he said. But mama kept her voice strong and clear. Her face was as hard as a rock.

"I don't care Burns," She said to him. "I don't want you here. I don't want you around my babies."

Daddy said something I could not hear.

"No, I do not love you. I loved you once, I loved you twice and I ain't lovin' you again," Mama said sternly. Her head was sweaty and her dress was dirty. Her hat blocked the sun from entering her eyes and she held a sack of potatoes.

Daddy spoke again.

"No, I ain't givin' you another chance Burns. You don't deserve it. You don't deserve me, Burns," She told him.

Daddy's hands balled up into fists and I could see the anger tremor off of his body.

"This is my daddy's house, I ain't leavin'" She said.

Daddy said something and called mama some names that I could hear.

Mama bent down picked up another potato and simply said without looking at him, "Burns, you oughta' get your self outa' here before I call the police on your sorry arse."

Daddy inhaled deeply, turned on his heal and marched back into the house, dirt flying from the bottoms of his shoes. I was so proud of mama for sticking up to him like that. I never loved my mama as much as I loved her from then on. She was my hero and for some reason, I thought we'd be just fine without daddy.

A few years later mama died from a real bad flu. We couldn't afford a doctor to come help her. Things got

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