The Mentally Ill Parent

When she was lying,
did she know it?
Did she realize that she was lying?

How can a person
who beats her kids
to the point of
lying on the floor
motionless,
unconscious,
with the lights out.
How can that same person
say what genuine astonishment
that she is hurt
when you tell her
that you are afraid of her?

What I realize

as a grown up
decades later
still trying to come to terms
with all the violence
and all the deception.
Did that part of her
that led a seemingly normal family life
and pretend
that nothing ever was wrong in the home,
did that part of her

really not know
about the other part.
The cruel and vicious part.
About that part

that would beat her environment
into submission
mercilessly.
The part that would explode
at the slightest
perceived
provocation
and wreak havoc
on the kids who were around.

Was her internal world really that split?
Was there no connection between the violence and the seeming normalcy,

the outward facade?
Can persons be that broken,

and not realize it?

It seems that way.
And it still is hard to grasp that concept for the grown up.
How impossible and overwhelming must it have been for the kid,
who was at the mercy of that madwoman.
How sad.
How very,

very sad.
Will the scars

be there

for a lifetime?

How much healing we all need.
For the individual,

the families,

the tribes,

the cities,

the countries,

the continents, 

the whole planet.
The universe really.