Post by Anna Craven on Dec 19, 2020 16:18:18 GMT -7
“Don’t you think I should remember by now?”
Anna’s mother looked up from where she was pressing the edges of the pie top down. “I know it bothers you.”
Anna gave her a long glance then frowned. “It bothers me, it infuriates me. I mean over a decade of my life, just blank.” There was a coldness to her words. She didn’t yell them nor push more weight to them than needed. They were like a sigh, a little pout. Maybe a snort. She sat down at the table and picked up the icing sieve. She pulled a tray of cookies towards her. “I have the longest known case of dissociative amnesia and dissociative fugue I’ve ever heard. Most people remember their lives by now.”
Michelle Craven smiled and walked up behind Anna. She set her hand on her shoulder. Anna looked up at her, the corner of her eyes were crinkled now in age. She was still that same woman, though, who’d given her a copy of Wuthering Heights when she’d first come into their home. Some doctors may have called such a book inappropriate for a girl who had schizoaffective disorder, but Anna had enjoyed it. She’d laughed at how her mother let her be who she wanted to be.
She let out the tension in her shoulders. “I just...I want to remember.”
“Wanting and needing are two separate things, you know that,” Michelle said. She moved to take a seat beside Anna. She took her own tray of cookies and together they started decorating them. “You’ll remember when you’re ready. When your mind is ready.”
It was the same story, the same words, but they were all the comfort that could be offered and Anna didn’t hold that against her. “What if it’s never ready?”
It was a childish question and she knew that, but even so her mother didn’t seem irritated at it. Instead she chuckled. “I guess you’ll just have to be a Craven forever then and have to live with the reality that you never found out what long, lost princess you are.” It made Anna laugh too.
She drew an intricate snowflake design on her sugar cookie, “I’d have to wonder how a princess ended up in Arlen of all places. Besides? Princess? Way too much responsibility. I have enough just as a reporter.”
“And if you do never find out, do you think that’ll change who you are? You’ll still be our Anna who made her own decisions, with her own mind. So don’t know where you’re from? It doesn’t change who you are inside. No one could do that.”
Anna looked at Michelle and her smile gleamed like the tears in her eyes. Maybe she’d always be a Craven and that, that was okay.
Anna’s mother looked up from where she was pressing the edges of the pie top down. “I know it bothers you.”
Anna gave her a long glance then frowned. “It bothers me, it infuriates me. I mean over a decade of my life, just blank.” There was a coldness to her words. She didn’t yell them nor push more weight to them than needed. They were like a sigh, a little pout. Maybe a snort. She sat down at the table and picked up the icing sieve. She pulled a tray of cookies towards her. “I have the longest known case of dissociative amnesia and dissociative fugue I’ve ever heard. Most people remember their lives by now.”
Michelle Craven smiled and walked up behind Anna. She set her hand on her shoulder. Anna looked up at her, the corner of her eyes were crinkled now in age. She was still that same woman, though, who’d given her a copy of Wuthering Heights when she’d first come into their home. Some doctors may have called such a book inappropriate for a girl who had schizoaffective disorder, but Anna had enjoyed it. She’d laughed at how her mother let her be who she wanted to be.
She let out the tension in her shoulders. “I just...I want to remember.”
“Wanting and needing are two separate things, you know that,” Michelle said. She moved to take a seat beside Anna. She took her own tray of cookies and together they started decorating them. “You’ll remember when you’re ready. When your mind is ready.”
It was the same story, the same words, but they were all the comfort that could be offered and Anna didn’t hold that against her. “What if it’s never ready?”
It was a childish question and she knew that, but even so her mother didn’t seem irritated at it. Instead she chuckled. “I guess you’ll just have to be a Craven forever then and have to live with the reality that you never found out what long, lost princess you are.” It made Anna laugh too.
She drew an intricate snowflake design on her sugar cookie, “I’d have to wonder how a princess ended up in Arlen of all places. Besides? Princess? Way too much responsibility. I have enough just as a reporter.”
“And if you do never find out, do you think that’ll change who you are? You’ll still be our Anna who made her own decisions, with her own mind. So don’t know where you’re from? It doesn’t change who you are inside. No one could do that.”
Anna looked at Michelle and her smile gleamed like the tears in her eyes. Maybe she’d always be a Craven and that, that was okay.