Trauma- what movie was it?

My sister called me today feeling nostalgic, or maybe just remembering the trauma we both spent years trying to bury. She laughed and said she would give me $1,000 if I could remember the name of the movie we saw when we were about 11 and 12 years old — back when we lived in Reno and our mother.. Why was this tramatic ? Well, our mother never came to pick us up from the theater when the movie was over.

The memory came back in pieces.

We wanted so badly to go to the movies, but we had no money. So we took food stamps to the liquor store and bought 10-cent candy over and over just to get the change back. We did it all day long until finally the cashier — maybe the owner — looked at us and said, “I know what you’re doing, and you need to stop.”

I remember staring at him like he was the crazy one.

Because in our minds, we weren’t doing anything wrong. We were just two little girls trying to scrape together enough money to feel normal for one night.

Eventually we made enough — almost ten dollars — all in coins . We paid for our tickets proudly, like we had accomplished something huge.

Our mother dropped us off and told us she’d come back when the movie was over.

She never came.

We waited outside for what felt like forever. The theater closed. The parking lot emptied. Everyone went home except us. Two little girls sitting there wondering if our mom forgot us… or if she just didn’t care enough to come back.

Instead of calling the police for child abandonment like they probably should have, one of the women working there finally took pity on us and drove us home.

It was the first time we ever got to go to the movies alone.

I wish I could say it was the last time she forgot us somewhere, but it wasn’t.

She did the same thing when we went to church. She only went because they helped pay her bills and fixed her car. She dropped us off for classes, promised to come back, and never did. I still remember sitting in the grass waiting for her to pull in. She never came. Once again, strangers had to bring us home.

Then there was the bowling alley.

Same story.

We sat outside in the cold for hours waiting for her. I think she finally showed up close to midnight, but probably only because she needed a babysitter.

These aren’t normal childhood memories.

This is not what a mother does to her children.

Now that I’m a mom, I can’t even imagine it. When Sam gets out of wrestling practice, I’m always there waiting before he even walks out the door. If I’m running five minutes late, I panic. The thought of my child wondering where I am destroys me even though he is 16!

But back then, that feeling became normal to us.

Waiting.

Wondering.

Being forgotten.

And the saddest part is that Alicia and I still can’t fully remember the movie. That’s what trauma and dissociation do. They blur the details while somehow leaving the pain crystal clear.

But if I had to guess, I think it was The Mighty Ducks.

And if it wasn’t that, maybe it was Aladdin.

Funny how I can’t remember the movie…

but I’ll never forget the feeling of being left behind.