I tried to love her

I tried desperately for over 60 years.  Tried to keep her secrets, no matter how horrendous.  I played along with her games, hated who ever she told me to hate.  She shared her hatred with me.  I looked forward to her gossip about her sons, daughters-in-law, grandchildren, nieces, nephews , cousins and friends.

According to Martha everyone kin to us was just another "sorry n****".  All too dumb, all worthless beggars, always looking to her for help.  They were "trailer trash", too lazy to work, all a bunch of schemers.  None of them were attentive like me. She thanked GOD everyday that she had a daughter like me.  She assured me that I was a blessing.  I was beautiful and kind.  I was generous, understanding and tenderhearted.

Now, I  always knew she delved in "witchcraft".  Along with my grandfather I agreed that she was just ignorant.  "Don't pay no 'tention to yo' mama…she ignut."  Although granddaddy reminded her everyday that she was going to hell, he never called her evil.  For some reason he kept trying to teach her, to admonish her gently.

It was NOT a complete waste of time because I listened.  I learned vicariously. I learned through my mother's many mistakes how to conduct myself.  I never would be a whore! Martha was a notorious whore and was damn proud of if.  Waved the five twenty dollar bills she made "whoring" in my face when I was fourteen.

I gave her such a look, while she was still bragging,  I eyes locked, she sensed my disgust, that made her hate me more.  She accused me of being a goody two shoes, of thinking I was something better than I was. The truth was I grew accustomed to her vulgar behavior and prayed for the strength to endure her. "LORD, just let me get grown, let me turn 18! I won't come back LORD! I promise I will never come back."

I can admit it now, I lied to GOD.  I rushed back with my college degree with honors in my hand.  She changed her tactics.  I was no longer too black, too dumb, too hard lucked! I was finally somebody! She told me that she loved me, that she was proud of me.  Shared the fact that she was astonished.  Me, a little black fatherless bastard graduated from college on time, Magna Cum Laude , no less.

She was very sorry that she never gave me any money. (I knew driving a brand new Cadillac was more important) Poor Martha never ever had any money to give me because life was just to expensive. "Dem damn white muthaf****** don't pay me s***. Here I am jest a GS-4!  If I wuz white I would run Ft. Bragg!"

Did I know Martha was two-faced? Yes.  Did I ever believe that she would betray me? Strangely, it never occurred to me.  I was just so glad to get a hug, a kiss, a compliment, a little piece of change, some old food  from her freezer.  Did I know that she was extremely jealous of me and wanted nothing for me but utter destruction? No.

Did I know that a true Christian would not secretly practice "witchcraft"?  No.  I simply dismissed it as an ignorant indulgence.  Frankly, I never believed it worked.  I laughed.  People lined their cars on both sides of Dwain Drive seeking her "dust" and I laughed. She saved their lives from imminent death by sacrificing thousands of dollars and we laughed.  My mother helped old men get their "nature" back decades before viagra and we laughed.   Any man that any woman wanted, no matter how fat and ugly she was, Martha had the "dust" that would get him.  She never guaranteed that you would keep him, but she assured you that you would get him in your bed at least one time. And we laughed, took me shopping, demanded that the clerk give her every pair of shoes in every color.  Martha, frowned that frown, bought me one pair with "my broke ass".

According to my mother all people where dumb blind sheep that she intended to fleece.  It was her gift. We laughed.   Martha was a hoot.  Her swindles were brag worthy. Martha was a hustler.  Not only did she work a regular job as key-punch operator, she kept a part time job at The Capitol department store, was a week-end madame,  sold a little puntang every now and then.  Demanded that all of her part time lovers give her a credit card and pay her bills.

Martha was always rolling in money until you asked for some.  I assure you the cussing she exploded on you was not worth it.  Some people did laugh at me in high school for wearing the same pair of brown shoes everyday no matter the color of my "outfit".  It didn't bother me one bit. "Not long LORD, just a few more months! I won't be back. I promise I will not be back!"

I know for a fact that a child can survive Never knowing that shopping for new school clothes was a right of passage.  I know you can survive no Easter outfits. Sitting in church looking and smelling like a rag muffin, wearing "runt-tov-ah" shoes, high water pants, raggedy socks and draws (drawers) because your mother secretly resents you and never had enough courage to tell you .  " I don't blive in dat s***!"   No Easter baskets, no birthday parties or gifts, very few if any Christmas gifts.  Yes, a child can survive.  I know I used my mother's extreme cruelty and selfishness to motivate me to study, to be self disciplined, self motivated. if you have a lazy unmotivated, goal-less child, give them just a little taste of Martha treatment.  Beat them, curse them, just don't  molest them!

I do look back over my life with a sigh of relief.  It is a good thing she pretended to be a saved, sanctified Christian. She successfully shot her own father in the heart.  Got away clean. Preached and prayed every Sunday in Simon Temple A.M.E.Zion church.  They would not touch her.  I warned them.  They ignored me.  Some one in that church needs to read the book of Revelation.

I was very hurt and highly offended when my entire family turned against me in favor of this imp.  I can't be too hard on them.   Look how long it took me to finally see, to finally get it. I do wonder, are there a lot of Marthas in the world? How many women are hiding behind clerical robes and sweet honey coated words?   How many women are batting their alluring eyes beckoning our youth to come in to her and get destroyed?

I will share the  characteristics of a Martha, of a malignant narcissistic mother, that I observed because I am a one man army.  I will tell! I will warn! I will not remain silent.  I will not cloak for a demon simply because she claimed to be my kin, claimed to love me.  I will look at your fruit.  If your fruit is rotten, I will shun you.

Dear LORD I do thank you for protecting me from her utter destruction.  True, she hurt and wounded me bad, but I am not utterly destroyed. That was her plan.  Yes, she layed me low.  Destroyed my reputation with many.  Killed any love my brothers may have ever had for me.

I thought about it a long time.  I decided that all Martha worshippers are dumb, blind fools and are unworthy of my time.  I do not have breath to waste trying to explain what they already know.  No, we are not the same age.  We did come along at various stages of her evil development.  But she got you too.  She did something sick and repugnant to every brother I have.  They know it.  They can choose to cloak and lie for her.  I won't.  Every one will know that something is amiss. Something is not right.

Martha is not a secret or a burden that I intend to take to my grave. I intend to make her an example of what NOT to do!

[Excerpt from The JR WALTERS Chronicles    August 9, 2014]