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My Mother’s Shock Therapy Erased her Memory of my Childhood Abuse
Shock, shŏk, noun: (1) a sudden or violent mental or emotional disturbance
On a colourless late-August morning, just shy of turning twenty-one, my eldest son places the last of his belongings into his car. From the kitchen window I watch as he takes one final glance back toward the house that carries within it his catalogue of childhood memories. He tucks the length of his legs in behind the wheel and settles in for the ninety minute drive to his new house — indeed, his new life.
Our entire family travel with him; a convoy of five vehicles driving single-file. I imagine, from a bird’s eye perspective, we resemble a line of high-speed ants as we navigate across the B101, together but separate. Green pastures soon give way to city limits and we arrive at his new house at the end of a quaint cul-de-sac that, to my relief, appears akin to something of a retirement village.
It takes most of the day to unload, unpack, and get him settled in. After one final family dinner together we drive him back to his new home. We tell him how proud we are of him, how much we love him and will miss him. There are hugs, tears; more hugs. He thanks us for his childhood. Says how much he will miss us. Stands on his front porch and watches as we walk back to…
