by Crimson Boudoir

Created on: October 24, 2009

I had two mothers. One, who changed my diapers, got me dressed, and slept along side of me on a cot when I had my tonsils out. She brushed my hair, and put the water in the vaporizer which was placed between the twin beds in our room.

My other mother was a Goddess who smelled like fresh cut Gardenias, who visited me when I had a fever, and placed her cool hand on my forehead. She was enchanting, like a fairy Queen, who my sister and I visited with a few times a day. She was beautiful and always wore sparkles in her clothes. She wore persimmon colored lipstick and smoked cigarettes. Her hair was always perfectly in place. She did not walk with us to school, or go to Central Park with us, but she was waiting for us at the end of each day, to hear all about our adventures of roller skating, and climbing the Alice in Wonderland statue. She praised our good grades, and the art work we brought home to give her. Every day she would ask me, "Did I tell you that I love you, today?" I would shake my head and smile. I knew the answer. "I love you today" she would respond and then put her arms around me with a loving hug. She did not watch Ed Sullivan with me, because that was what Nanny did. But she was the one who gave the permission for me to stay up and watch the Supremes, and Topo Gigio. She was busy going to parties with my father. But, she taught me how to do the twist. She was always singing. She drank coffee with sugar and let me have a teaspoon full, and had a whole closet for her shoes, which I loved the leathery smell of.

I had two mothers. One mother was my "Nanny", an RN who took care of me from birth until age 7. My biological mother lived the life of a wife and mother as was proper for someone in the society register. It was considered dclass' to be involved with one's children. Then, suddenly, we moved into an apartment without my father. Nanny got sick. She went away and never came back. My mother stopped going out and everything changed.

I was my mother's perfect ideal. She thought I was talented, and pretty and always told me so. Life went smoothly between us until I discovered my own likes and dislikes. I also acquired a terrible habit of misplacing things, of forgetting and losing things. I hated displeasing my mother because she got very upset, and I was very uncomfortable with that. Yet, the more I lost things, the more I got yelled at. The more I got yelled at, the more I lost things. I became disappointing. I promised myself that I would never

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