Showing posts with label neglect. Show all posts
Showing posts with label neglect. Show all posts

Monday, July 7, 2025

"A Forgotten Load"


            Upon entering the laundry room this morning, dismay accompanied me as I noted unfolded towels in the basket. I’d totally forgotten to fold them on Wednesday! Panic knocked my pulse up a beat as I shot a glance at the washer to see if I’d left a load of wet clothes in the machine. I don’t do this often, but there’s nothing worse than damp clothes sitting for several days. Fortunately, the drum gleamed in emptiness. My next response, of course, was to check the dryer for a load. Today, a set of sheets tangled inside—dried. What a relief! Occasionally, I’ve left wet clothes in both appliances, which ripples down into a wash-redo.  
            I take comfort in the fact that many loads of laundry remain forgotten by other people. My lapse in memory doesn’t indicate anything more serious than absent-mindedness caused by a busy day or interruption in routine. The proof for the commonality of forgotten loads rests with the option on all machines: FRESHEN UP.
 



Copyright 2022 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman    

 

Friday, March 7, 2025

"Forgiveness"

  




 I wanted to blanket you in gentle warmth,  
            swaddle  you, protect you  
Never dreaming that you suffocated  
            under the weight of my attention  
I longed for you to mirror my heart  
            —mimic my words  
            —morph into my Mini-Me  
And I snipped away your identity  
And shaped you into a paper doll  
            that no one else can love  
When convenient—  
I mended your heartbreaks  
And fought your monsters  
I also shared our intimacies  
            —in gossip  
            stripping you to bare bones  
My love— 
            So wrong in intensity—  
whipped between over-indulgence and neglect  
On and off  
And on again  
            Leaving you heartless  










Copyright 2015 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

 

 

 

Friday, April 7, 2023

"Favoritism"

 

The Smothers Brothers: Mom Always Liked You Best!



“Mom always liked you best”       
a long ago line from a Smothers Brothers’ routine        
comedy-a joke       
a Band-Aid covering       
deep wounds       
One       
loved without effort       
gifted with endless attention       
a mama’s boy       
walking on water       
parting the Red Sea       
with his shallowness       
selfishness       
manipulations       
One       
overlooked and forgotten       
faceless in the familial crowd       
a lost son       
never perfect enough       
always longing       
humble       
a pure soul       
Adoration and Neglect       
doled out in equal dollops       
so much showered on one       
nothing remained for the other        


Copyright 2012 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman






Tuesday, April 4, 2023

"Daddy's Girl"



Tears welled in his eyes   
a confident smirk masked his disappointment   
A girl—a girl   
His finger slid down the curve of her soft cheek   
then he stepped back   
building physical distance   
No clone    
No son to show off at company parties and family reunions   
“Do you want to hold her?”   
No!   
His eyes darted to his wife, his mother   
relief settled his shoulders as he realized his screamed denial was in his head   
“I think she has my hair,” his young wife crooned   
“I think she has my eyes.”  
His hand rubbed the stubble on his chin   
fatigue punched his gut   
Pretending sapped his energy   
made him dry and brittle   
Empty   
A fox outwitted by the trap, he stood motionless   
fought the instinct to chew off his leg   
Instead, he boxed his panic   
nailed down the lid   
let days blend into months and years   
He encouraged his daughter’s adoration   
while he ignored her needs   
avoided her love   
silenced her angry tears by walking away   
He minimized her   
made her peripheral   
on the edges of his consciousness   
an orbiting object not worthy of his attention   
A girl—a girl   

Copyright 2012 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman


Thursday, March 16, 2023

“The Road NOT Taken”

Road NOT taken!


           Last weekend we did a quick turn-around trip to our cabin in Leakey, Texas. Because of transportation problems over the last few years, we’ve neglected both the cabin’s exterior and the massive cedar take-over of the acreage. Now that we have our Bronco Sport, heading down the rough road isn’t a problem. David’s selected areas on the property to create trails through the cedars; with going up the hill behind the cabin taking priority as the top of it is our only section where we get cellphone reception.

          The porch, which we built more than thirty years ago, attaches to the metal building and sprung a leak during our long absence. Last November, we noted the water damage, and David decided to bring some GREAT STUFF up on the next visit to seal the leak. In January, he sprayed both from the roof line above and within the porch below. This time, it was obvious that everything dried out. Now we have to figure out how to fix the damage, an extra problem since it’s only the two of us. We brainstormed on ways to remove the rotten parts, reinforce the zone with new wood, and also treat the remainder of the porch’s wood to preserve it. I’ll spend time researching the exterior paints with waterproofing before the next visit. The cabin’s exterior wood needs both repairs and paint. We’ll toil at these tasks for the remainder of this year.




            We’re never ones to shy away from hard work, but since my both of my knees have had slight injuries, I’m extra cautious when we’re at the cabin now since another twisted knee is a major setback I don’t want to deal with. For safety purposes, I wear ankle high, steel toed hiking boots instead of the tennis shoes I’ve worn for years. If  I step down the ramp, my heavy boots adorn my feet. I crawl at a careful pace going up the back hill. I test the inclines of slopes before heading back down. That means a zigzag path with David nearby to offer a hand of assistance.

            On Sunday, we started down one of the dry creek beds. It’s one of my favorite treks. With extreme vigilance, I picked my way along the rocks and gravel. David, eyes forward and moving at his normal pace, left me in the dust! About ten feet in, I called out, “I think this is too difficult for me right now. I’m going back to the road!” Frankly, I didn’t know whether I felt defeated or victorious. One the one hand, I didn’t venture down a road I’ve taken many, many times with ease. Although my knees felt fine, I didn’t want to risk re-injury. The younger, less arthritic Liz wouldn’t have turned back. Even a couple of years ago, I would’ve pushed myself a little harder. The practical, new Liz listened to my body’s whispered, “Maybe not . . .” and heeded the warning. NOT taking the rocky road is a huge victory for my more alert self.

            I suspect my new mantle of prudence will wrap me in security from now on when working at the cabin. I see myself climbing up and down a ladder with paintbrush in hand, and eventually knowing my footing’s sure enough to trek both dry creek beds. It will be done with a slow and steady pace, though.


Actual road I walked!


Copyright 2023 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman  

             

Sunday, March 31, 2019

"Lost Child"



Little boy with bright mischievous eyes
And no control over his actions
In kindergarten he remains friendless
No other child walks with him—arm flung around his shoulders—sharing secrets
In first grade he cannot read
His wildness presses against school’s restraints
As he fights conformity
No other child walks with him—arm flung around his shoulders—sharing secrets
Second grade demands attention
But numbers whirl by in him
Until he becomes senseless and numbed by Adderall
No other child walks with him—arm flung around his shoulders—sharing secrets
He slows down and gives up
Submitting to rules and regulations
Molding himself into submission
Still—
No other child walks with him—arm flung around his shoulders—sharing secrets




Copyright 2019 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman





Sunday, September 20, 2015

“Forgiveness”



I wanted to blanket you in gentle warmth,  
            swaddle  you, protect you  
Never dreaming that you suffocated  
            under the weight of my attention  
I longed for you to mirror my heart  
            —mimic my words  
            —morph into my Mini-Me  
And I snipped away your identity  
And shaped you into a paper doll  
            that no one else can love  
When convenient—  
I mended your heartbreaks  
And fought your monsters  
I also shared our intimacies  
            —in gossip  
            stripping you to bare bones  
My love— 
            So wrong in intensity—  
whipped between over-indulgence and neglect  
On and off  
And on again  
            Leaving you heartless  

Copyright 2015 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

 

 

 

Thursday, January 17, 2013

"Daddy's Girl"

Man in a Box   
chadholtz.net   


Tears welled in his eyes   
a confident smirk masked his disappointment   
A girl—a girl   
His finger slid down the curve of her soft cheek   
then he stepped back   
building physical distance   
No clone    
No son to show off at company parties and family reunions   
“Do you want to hold her?”   
No!   
His eyes darted to his wife, his mother   
relief settled his shoulders as he realized his screamed denial was in his head   
“I think she has my hair,” his young wife crooned   
“I think she has my eyes.”  
His hand rubbed the stubble on his chin   
fatigue punched his gut   
Pretending sapped his energy   
made him dry and brittle   
Empty   
A fox outwitted by the trap, he stood motionless   
fought the instinct to chew off his leg   
Instead, he boxed his panic   
nailed down the lid   
let days blend into months and years   
He encouraged his daughter’s adoration   
while he ignored her needs   
avoided her love   
silenced her angry tears by walking away   
He minimized her   
made her peripheral   
on the edges of his consciousness   
an orbiting object not worthy of his attention   
A girl—a girl   

Copyright 2012 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman


Friday, March 23, 2012

“Favoritism”

The Smothers Brothers: Mom Always Liked You Best!



“Mom always liked you best”       
a long ago line from a Smothers Brothers’ routine        
comedy-a joke       
a Band-Aid covering       
deep wounds       
One       
loved without effort       
gifted with endless attention       
a mama’s boy       
walking on water       
parting the Red Sea       
with his shallowness       
selfishness       
manipulations       
One       
overlooked and forgotten       
faceless in the familial crowd       
a lost son       
never perfect enough       
always longing       
humble       
a pure soul       
Adoration and Neglect       
doled out in equal dollops       
so much showered on one       
nothing remained for the other        


Copyright 2012 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman