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In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Free Association.”

Funny you should mention “Home” and free association.

Received a dvd of the family home movies. Old ones, starting in the late 50’s. Everyone wearing suits and skinny ties at house parties. Women with dark lipstick and short curled bobs, high heels and broaches. Gorgeous times.

Many of the people I did not recognize as they were my parents friends before I was born. One person in particular I just by chance recognized was my mother. She was absolutely, stunningly gorgeous. It could have been Elizabeth Taylor in her heyday smiling and waving in that clunky old film. Breathtakingly gorgeous, laughing and charming everyone around her. Dangly earrings, perfect lipstick. An elegant party in the beautiful giant century home they used to own, before I was born.

I don’t ever recall her having fun or laughing around us. Nor do I recall such beauty and charm. I do recall her hate and anger and her vicious words. That’s what I free associate about home. An overweight, miserable woman who hated everyone, bought friends from church with $50 bills and ‘divorced’ her kids because, well, actually I never did hear why she was divorcing us. She heard about it on some afternoon tv show and that was that.

No hard feelings, that was when Dad died 6 or 7 years ago. In fact I so seldom think of her that maybe that’s another reason I almost didn’t recognize her.

This morning’s free association makes me wonder what she would think of now, when presented with the word ‘Home’.

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