For Want of a Face

This piece concludes my story about the hard times my mother gave me because of my awful ways: the deviated septum I'd been born with giving this parent of mine a plethora of dreadful anger and blame: all directed my way; which left me in serious doubt concerning my true abilities and real value in this world. I should mention additionally that the septum difficulty affecting my ability to translate thoughts into ordinary words; leaving me wondering greatly about my basic self-worth. With these speech problems affecting my ability to make easy connecting contacts with other students in my classes, I decided to quickly re-invent myself as a very shy person: all to prevent me from making those speech errors that would brand me 'un idiot savant.' Which did work until I took the 11-plus exam in England: assessing me as gifted: leading me toward a career in teaching: though still faced with this mother of mine who'd hated me for my strange ways and looks. What does one do with a mother like this: other than write it out till common sense safely lands one; Canadian immigration being my escape route exit from this mother: allowing me a chance to seek the minor surgery needed to resolve all my problems: I can now speak words with the rest of this chatty world. Thanks so much for reading this. Beryl Hand