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My mother began to lose it - I was only 12. 

Her marble bag began to tear and marbles 

spilled out everywhere. It was not the simple 

kind of stuff, and it really was annoying. None 

of my friends ever came over, for I was too 

embarrassed. My mother was lost and I could 

not help. It was all so confusing.

First, there were the phases, especially the 

one with colors. Everything was being painted 

and all of my clothes were the same color. The 

mailbox was always different. Colors this and 

colors that, it could not get any worse. Colors 

overflowed her life and stormed down all 

around us.

She became a control freak, and everything 

went wrong. The way we sat, the way we act, 

nothing went her way. Gone was the law of 

free speech, at least in our household. There 

was nothing I could do because she was in 

control.   Our freedom flag no longer flew with 

stars and stripes of courage; she had become 

the dictator.

The dreadful nights, those were the worst, 

nothing was safe and sound. Time and again 

things would happen and someone could get 

hurt. Danger lurked around the corner. No 

peaceful sleep or innocent dreams wafted 

through the house. Nightmares rang between 

our ears and sleep was a wishful thought.

Once it was the iron rod cracked down on 

Johnny’s knees. Another time it was the night 

where Suzy was kept from sleep. The 

bathroom door was locked up tight to keep the 

people out. They crept around and their 

shadows passed through the darkness in her 

mind. 

Now lost: her sanity.

Then I left the house and traveled off to 

college. There I met my handsome husband 

and finally had a stress free life. Shooting 

stars flew through my mind and joyous bursts 

filled my life. Soon my husband was drafted to 

fight in Vietnam. I with child had no choice but 

to return to my childhood home. I knew what 

lingered in my past, that creeping, crouching 

shadow, but I could not stay on my own to 

raise my only child.

Lonely as it was for me, I was surrounded by 

my family, but soon I came to realize that 

nobody would be safe. Her marbles scattered 

about the   floor were difficult to find in the 

raging storm. We spoke to doctors and the 

ministers at church. They only had one 

answer, but I was only twenty-two and had no 

clue what to do. 

We knew she was ill, but she did not know. It 

was like her mind was veiled from the 

darkness that we saw. She acted strange and 

did not behave. Her life was a danger to us all, 

and with a baby on the way we knew this was 

not suitable. So we booked the hearing, a 

terrible one, for all of our hope was lost. The 

hope we still clung on to was not hope at all.

The court took her in and the hearing was set. 

They wanted to be sure that we were doing 

the right thing. Our mother was ill, a threat to 

our home, and I had a baby coming soon. The 

court then decided that it was right to commit 

her. Though I was relieved, I still knew that I 

would really miss her.

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