Isabella Marie

Despite all of the madness in my life, I have realized that although I break down, complain, and cry, I'm a strong woman. Despite those that judge me and despite of the. . .not so good choices I have made throughout my lifetime, I am a strong woman. And I know that, just as sure as night will fall, tomorrow the sun will rise once more. Being at my lowest has helped me to grow and is continuing to help me. Life's experiences has shaped me to be this magnificent being that I know I am. If you don't start at the bottom, you will never appreciate and value that climb as you rise to the very top.

My grandmother has been coming to me in my dreams a lot lately. Stroking Heaven's untamed curls as she rested her head on my chest, I told her of times when I was young girl leaving with my grandmother. However when she asked, why was it that I lived with my grandmother and not my mommy like everyone else, a flood of memories came back to me. The memories that were placed in the back of my brain had resurfaced once more, memories of Isabella Marie, my mother.

It was not that I hated her, in fact I loved her more then I knew she ever loved me. To this day I don't understand how she did not have that connection with me, her only child, the one she carried inside of her very womb for nine months. The connection, that is natural, that is unexplainable, and overwhelming . . . even before you look into the eyes of the innocent life that you have created and bore into this world. Heaven is my greatest accomplishment, my greatest blessing, for her I live and would die. . .and yet my mother never formed all of these wonderful emotions that takes over my soul.

"My mother was a free soul, Heaven. She would not allow anything or anyone. . . not even me to hold her back, she was never grounded. The last time I saw Isabella Marie, a gorgeous lady she was, was awful, a terrible memory that I had wished vanished right along with all the photos and letters she had written to my grandmother concerning her baby girl, her burden. "

Heaven, half asleep pulled the blankets over her shoulders as she tried her best to fight the melanin, struggling to hear the lost tale of her unknown grandmother. I wiped silent tears away from my eyes soon as I felt them forming. My face warmed and my heart beat harder as I prepared myself to speak of the mysterious, beautiful lady who I wanted more then anything to know and hug and be loved by for so many years.

" Isabella Marie was small, a very small woman with high cheek bones, and wide eyes that always seemed to twinkle. . .it was apparent even in those old photos when she was just as young as you Heaven. Her nails were always polished, bright and red, like the bright red lipstick that stained her tiny lips. The few times I remember being with her, she always wore dresses, flowing and beautiful, fitting her small little body just right. She had an angelic face and as far as appearance, I saw no flaw. She was perfect in every way possible. I wanted to look just like the pretty little lady. . . . . . . The last time I saw her, I was around your age, Heaven. It was late and we were waiting up for Isabella to arrive home. Grammy couldn't sleep not knowing where she was and what she was doing out in those streets. she had to see her come through those doors, you know. She drove the sweet lady insane. Constant screaming on her behalf when she lived with us. Always tension between the two women who were all I known. Grandmother talked of being in love once, said he was handsome man with money, lots of it. His parents  forbid he saw her after at a young age discovered she was pregnant. They snuck around for sometime before his folks found out and moved away from the small town altogether. . .and Isabella, from what I learned, she was never a one woman man. Grandmother said she had been in love with my daddy, but he abandoned her when she needed him most. Left her with a baby. And because of me he would have nothing to do with her . Grammy said she wanted to abort me, kill me off and be with him instead. But, Lily Anne was not having it. No child of her would be the murderer of an innocent soul not given a chance. 'A child is a blessing, a beautiful wonderful, blessing. You made your bed know you must lie in it. You will never experience nothing else like loving that baby.' That's what she told her, and that's what she told me when I was still carrying you."

I kissed Heaven's head forehead before carrying on. Breathing in, the emotions of feeling unloved, abandoned, and worthless all came back to me for a moment.

"But, I don't know. Instead of love, my mothers heart filled with hatred, and that had only grew over time. Her heart never recovered from the heart brake she had suffered when my father left. I remember the cold stares, the loveless touches, and the evil words that I did not deserve Heaven. I loved her so much, and I always tried to be admist her presence. But the God to honest truth was, my grandmother didn't trust her alone with me. . . she was afraid of what she'd do. And she should have been. . .That very last day, the very last day I ever seen my mother, we knew something was wrong. I sat between my grandmothers legs on the carpeted floor as she braided my hair . When Isabella opened the door, she entered peacefully, quietly. For once, she did not smell of smoke, neither did she stumble about because she was so damn intoxicated. I didn't know about the things out there in those streets. I just knew Isabella was a lot funnier , and really loud, and she talked to me. . .when she was drunk. I didn't care what she said, or how mean it was, she actually talked to me and that was all that mattered."

The image of the angel floating into my grandmothers small little living room was reappearing before my eyes as I spoke. Forgetting where I was, I didn't even realize I was talking anymore, because I was there. Reliving that day.

"Isabella Marie ? - - - Baby ?" My grandmother gently moved my little body to the side as she stood to examine her daughter. She loved her so much. She noticed the twinkle in her eye had dimmered, yet that distant stare was still there as she looked into my grandmothers tired face.

It wasn't until I was born she began all the terrible habits she had picked up. But my grandmother never blamed me. My mother would die because of me, but she refused to live for the very one who took her life. I took her life. My grandmother wouldn't let her leave me here to follow my daddy when he moved away, she wouldn't let her live her only child alone. She lost love, she lost her freedom, and she lost her sanity. I took her life.

Looking into my grandmothers troubled eyes, she tried to smile.

"I am so sorry mama. I am so, so, so sorry. I'm okay tonight though. You're little Izzy is okay tonight. And I love you." Before Isabella could finish my grandmother pulled her small body into her own and hugged her and loved her.  The perfect lady cried into her shoulders, holding her mother. The little woman disappeared and a scared, heartbroken, and confused little girl stood in her place.

She began again after a moment. "Can I put my baby to sleep mama ?" she asked as she softly pulled away from my grandmother, staring at me. Me, small and timid, sitting there on the floor, hoping that my grammy would say yes. hoping that my mama would tuck me safely under my covers and kiss me and tell me she loved me.

Hesitant, my grandmother looked over her shoulder at me and then at my mother before softly nodding her head. And all the while my mother walked over to me, guiding me to the bedroom in the back of the house, my grandmother watched with nervous eyes.

Climbing into bed, a small girl who looked much like Heaven, was happier then she had ever been to be there alone with her mother. The little woman sat beside her, carefully fluffing the pillow behind her and moving the pillows only set up for decoration out of the way.

"You made him leave. You took my life. And she wants me to love you. Love you like she loves you. I love her. . .and I love him." She began to sob, as she spoke just a little bit above a whisper. Loud enough for me to make out her words and pain, soft enough for my grandmother to wait curiously for her return. "I love her, and I love him. And he left me, and she loves you. I love them and you took them away. I love her. . . I hate you, I hate youuu !"


She grabbed a pillow and smashed it over my face. My screams muffled and my little arms flaying, trying to fight against my mothers force, my lack of strength causing me to fail. Eventually I gave in, realizing my attempts to go against this tiny but strong little woman was pointless. I would die at the hand of my mother it seemed, until suddenly the was pressure was relieved and although blurry my vision began to come back into view before me.

I could just barely make out grammy yanking Isabella Marie away from me, teary and wide eyed as she shouted,

"Isabella Marie, I can't take it anymore. Get out, get out, get out ! You will be the death of me ! My very own, my blood, my baby, my sweet baby girl. Oh, how I hate to do this but you will not play the role of God in this house, you won't. I carried you, I sacrificed, I raised you all alone. I love you Isabella Marie, but you got to go !"

I lie there shaking and crying as I watched my grandmother who always appeared to be this big, strong lady shrink before my eyes. She was small and innocent. Her natural beauty magnified by my strong connection to her at that very moment.

My mother grabbed a number of articles in her tiny arms, gathering them with shaky hands as teams streamed down her lifeless face. She said absolutely nothing, until she raced out of my bedroom door.

"Mama." and although she had just tried to take my life away fro me, all I had for her was sympathy and love at that moment as she too seemed to become smaller while gazing into my grandmother with saddened eyes. Her apology for hurting her, but not me, because she had not regretted it.

My grandmother crashed on the bed beside me rocking me and holding me for the rest of the night. We listened as the door slammed behind her child. That was the very last time I saw Isabella Marie. It was the last time either of us saw her.

Days after grammy received a letter on the front of her doorsteps beneath a stone, a letter from Isabella Marie explaining how she was going away in search of my dad and that she would not be returning. Every now and then throughout the years she'd send grammy a letter, apologizing and confirming she was yet still alive. Each letter my grandmother would keep inside of a drawer beside her bed, and each letter I placed inside of her coffin as she laid for an everlasting rest. Those letters were the most important things to her, besides me, myself after Isabella left. After awhile they stopped coming.

My mother had sent me a few letters also, but my grandmother would never give them to me. I found them boxed in the trash one day. Each one hateful and angry, and unforgiving of my life. I burned them to ashes. My grammy explained to me to never allow a man to drive me completely crazy like my dad did Isabella Marie. She said one day she would realize that she was wrong, but right now she was out of it. I love my grandmother, and I never stopped loving my mother .

As I realized Heaven had lost her fight against sleep, I slid from under her kissing her cheek, before heading to my bedside. I removed a photo of my grandmother when she was a lot younger from beneath a pillow, holding an innocent Isabella Marie in her arms, love bright in her eyes. At that moment it came to me.

I drank because it was my only connection to Isabella marie. It was only when she was intoxicated I had some kind of acknowledgment from my mother. It was then she was funny and slightly kinder to me. I wanted so badly to be like her. But if being like her meant being hateful and evil, I no longer longed for that kind of connection. I loved my Heaven. Innocent, beautiful, and angelic. Innocent like that young girl who wanted more then anything to be loved by her mother, angelic like my grandmother who rested amongst the heaven's, and beautiful like my mother. My obsession with Heaven was made clear as to why.

I wanted to love her like how I felt that love from my grammy. A love I had never gotten from my own mother. But I still loved her and hoped she was happy somewhere.