Monika Brinkman

By On January 22, 2012 · 9 Comments · In Featured, Of Knights and Knaves: all entries

Literati…I have an amazing talent to take the most somber story, well written, and ascribe some absolutely frivolous graphic and comment to it in an effort to entertain you, and compel you to read the stories that get posted on the blog.  Just couldn’t do it this time…I must be slippin’…or maybe…

Here is Monika Brinkman’s entry into our contest Of Knights and Knaves.  She calls it

Decision

by Monika Brinkman

 

“Come on sweetie-pie, you know the routine. “

Bonnie lowered her head deciding it better to remain silent.  She knew what was in store, no matter how she reacted so why bother to answer at all.  Nothing ever changed anyway.

“Don’t pull the silent treatment on me young lady.”

“Momma, I’m tired of it all. What does it matter?  It only gets worse.”

Jennie mustered inner strength, repressing the tears now filling her eyes.  She had grown to accept the task as stern, unyielding parental figure.

“Look Bonnie, we made a deal.  Now get your tiny little butt into the tub this second.”

“I don’t want to. You can’t make me.”

“Don’t you stomp that foot and sass me Miss Prima Dona.” Jennie’s large form shook in anger. With one quick movement, she carefully picked up her daughter, placing her delicately into the tepid water of the bath.

“Ouch! It hurts so badly. You don’t love me. Nice mothers’ wouldn’t hurt their children.”

Ignoring Bonnie’s pleas, Jennie pricked the first blister with the sterilized needle’s point.  “Hold still sweetie, the more you fuss and squirm, the longer it will take.”

Tears flowed freely down Bonnie’s forlorn face, dropping into the bathwater with a soft plunk.

“No Momma, stop it, please. “

Jennie continued the ritual, a pierce here, a prick there as her little girl writhed in pain with each touch of the needle.

“Damn it Bonnie, stop jerking or I’ll miss my mark and it will hurt even worse.”

“I’m really trying to be still Momma. Honest I am. But I feel like I’m on fire. Why does it have to be so bad? You’re supposed to love me, not hurt me. My friends’ mommas would never hurt them. You’re not nice at all. You don’t even care about me.”

The little girl’s body quivered in anguish, each touch a flash of agony, each second an excruciating jolt of pain.

Jennie continued, ignoring the consistent cries and yelps of suffering. She had a job to finish, a task to complete no matter how much bark and stormy emotional cries of protest emitted by her beautiful Bonnie.

“Okay kiddo, we finished in record time, only thirty-five minutes. Now stand up and let momma help you out of the tub.”

“Just a second, I’m trying to get up. Don’t touch me, it hurts, let me do it Momma.”

“Bon, be careful, you’ll slip. I’m just going to help you get out, okay?” She carefully placed her hands under Bonnie’s arms and lifted her gently over the tubs edge and onto the beige carpeted floor.

“Do I have to wear those stupid bandages again? I look like a freak. Nobody else’s mother makes them wear bandages.  I hate them! I hate you putting them on me!”

“You’re certainly in a foul mood this evening. You know I have to wrap you. Child of mine, why are you making it so difficult? Now give me your hand.”

“No.”

“Don’t curl that lip at me young lady. You can stand there naked all night or you can work with me and get this done. You know dumpling, the sooner we get you wrapped, the sooner you’ll be able to watch TV.”

Bonnie considered her choices for a moment and then held out her hand, ready for the inevitable, feisty spirit broken as she gave in to her mother’s demands.

“This is taking forever”, Bonnie complained as the Vaseline gauze bandages wrapped her hands, feet, legs, arms and slender torso.

~~~

“Are you certain about your choice?”

“You question my decision, Peter?”

“Not question my dear, merely wishing you take into consideration the consequences of such a choice.”

“Someone must take this challenge. So, why not me? Do you believe it unwise?”

“Wisdom is not the matter at hand, now is it? Perhaps a more suitable expression would be knowledge.”

“Yes, the torment of living would be quite a test.”

“So, what shall it be then?”

“Without hesitation, I shall take on the body of this mother. “

“May I inquire your reasoning?”

“You see, Peter, most would believe to select the child’s form, living such an excruciating life with Epidermolysis Bullosa, as the more turbulent. I think to live the life as the caretaker the more important lesson to learn. The child will suffer through the disease, yet the mother will suffer through affection. It will take much strength to inflict repeated hurt and pain in what is truely the ultimate act of pure, unyielding love.”

With a nod, the answer, “So it shall be.”

Love is a concept, by which we measure our pain (John Lennon)

 

Author Monica M. Brinkman believes in writings that have meaning and purpose. She is a member of The Writers Center, The Missouri Authors Guild, and has been writing articles, short stories, poetry for what she calls, too many years to recall. Her first fiction novel, The Turn of the Karmic Wheel, was released late 2010 and can be found in e-book and paperback format at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Kindlegraph. Her sequel, The Wheel’s Final Turn, will be released in 2012. Ms. Brinkman also hosts a weekly radio broadcast, Two Unsynchronized Souls, each Thursday evening with co-host Oana.

Visit Monica’s web-site, A Touch of Karma, at www.theturnofthekarmicwheel.blogspot.com

and her radio show @ www.blogtalkradio.com/monicabrinkmanandoana

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
About The Author

Thornton

Someday, I'll get it write...

Visit Authors Website →
  • Diane Cresswell

    I get to be the first to commend this incredible dialogue that stands out emitting emotions, pain, suffering, diligence in a task and yet can feel the suffering that underlies the conversation between mother and daughter.  Outstanding Monica.  You tackled a subject of those who are caretakers who suffer right along with the one they are caring for.  And its not easy – been there.  The ending however is spectacular for I know the arena also.  We choose what we will do in this life and it isn’t always easy.  Love does that.  The greatest power is love and it knows no boundaries.  It is the greatest of lessons and the glue that binds the Universe.  Bravo my dear. Spectacular!

  • Tlrelf

    I can relate to this as a mother. . .Most definitely. An important lesson. . .The child’s complaints coupled with the commentaries of the mother’s care, provide an excellent clue. I wasn’t sure who the observational narrator was, so when the “supernatural” section came along, I was both pleased and surprised. Well-wrought.

  • http://mikestangconstruction.com Michael Stang

    A story equal to all the Bodhisattvas. Perhaps you are one yourself.

  • Kyle Katz

    Monica, I read your story, then had to step away.So well written and so validating for those of us who have gone through this process, sometimes with lack of understanding,  at what it must be like for the person or persons finding themselves in a situation where the only decision you have is getting through to the other side.
      For 9 years, my son had debilitating chronic excema, asthma and over 100 food and environmental allergies. There were many nights I would sleep with him while holding ice pads around his body to soothe his burning skin.  I had to be careful not to freeze his body but to keep him comfortable while he slept. I had to hold his hands so he wouldn’t scratch himself to death, bleeding onto his sheets. He looked like a burn victim, from his neck down.  At times he couldn’t walk.Medicines did not help because of his allergies to chemicals. There were nights I had to hold him down to force his mask on, so he could breathe. He refused to take the medicines. He kicked and screamed at me and hated me for being so cruel.  He hated me for taking him to every doctor, including alternative medicine, from san diego to L.A. I never gave up, because I loved him so much.
     He’s 11 now, and the last 2 years has been much better for him, and me. He’s on homeopathic remedies, and has certainly grown into this old soul of wisdom, and a fireball of destiny. He understands now that we were both fighting for his survival. Our bond is strong. Our love is unique. 
    Thanks for telling the other side. I’m still catching up on 9 years of lost sleep, between yoga, zumba,  and writing, while he gets to finally play football and run. I don’t take the little things for granted anymore. Being more in the moment has been my teacher.Thank you so much for  bringing forth this story.  A true love story to all caretakers.

  • http://www.theturnofthekarmicwheel.blogspot.com/ Monica Brinkman

    Thank you all for your take on the story. Kyle, I can only imagine the bond you shared with your son during the nights and days you tended to him, and, with great love and care. I salute you for all you did and am so happy the homeopathec medicines are working. What wonderful news indeed.

    But, all in all, my friends, this was a tribute to the brave children who grab onto life, present such sweet smiles but when you look into their eyes, you see such an old soul who has been through more pain and anguish than most who live to be a ripe old age.

    And, above all, a tribute to the caretakers who when faced with such a situation, out of pure love, can continue to care for their child or loved one, even when their hearts cry out for mercy.

    Thanks again. Love yah all,
    Monica

  • http://twitter.com/sambpoet Salvatore Buttaci

    Monica, you never cease to amaze me! This story of yours knocked me for a loop! And to think I count you among my closest friends makes me doubly proud of you.

  • http://www.theturnofthekarmicwheel.blogspot.com/ Monica Brinkman

    Sal, my friend. It is only with the encouragement, wisdom and talent I see in author’s such as you that inspires me. You set the bar very high. I am so happy you liked my tale. Thank you for commenting.

  • Mac Eagan

    There are two elements in this story that stand out to me.
    One is a teaching from the Bible that one of the reasons Jesus came to earth and lived as a human was so that on his return to heaven as Judge, mankind would have “not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities” but someone who was able to empathize with the sufferings of humanity, having lived and suffered as a human himself.
    The second thing I appreciated here was the recognition of the stress and suffering of the caretakers for the chronically ill.  Never mind what regular parents go through when they make decisions with their children’s best interests in mind, but are received with opposition.  In this case the parent has to do something that truly is painful to the child, even though it is done in love.  I have not had to go through that myself, but your story helps me to have renewed appreciation for those that have.
    Thanks.

  • Dolores Doody

    This story is a tribute to all mothers (and fathers) who have had to cope with a child’s illness.  It is a story that makes us think and count our blessings.  Thanks for sharing.