Scarlet Sunday’s Sunday.
Scarlet loved Sundays with strangers’ dogs roaming freely.
This was like the 70s.
Shame and blame had not yet haunted her best day.
Dog, God bless, saved her Sunday.
Grandma didn’t get to bless her mother’s firstborn.
Zoey went to the skies with Grandma the same year.
Scarlet Sunday couldn’t reach her mum’s harshly angry mother’s heart.
Flowers and garden centers closed on what felt like a cruel day.
The 80s stole Scarlet’s innocent days.
Violence and the sex scene stole her voice.
She was too scared to tell and cause a problem.
Scarlet masked her pain with a smile.
Not yet a woman, she ran away.
She went into intolerance and abuse and more shame.
“I must be to blame,” was scared Scarlet’s way.
Her tears, like hot water, angered the hierarchy queen.
“How dare you cry, Scarlet? What do you know of pain?”
So she smiled and had a baby, a glorious boy.
But the light dimmed as she saw the darkness in the dad’s dead eyes.
Scarlet wanted to run, but where to?
There was no safe home.
There were no safe Sundays.
It was all about the rush: the shopping, the working, the endless “musts.”
She left with the baby so his head wouldn’t be caved in.
But now Scarlet was always too much or too little.
Everything she did was too much or too little.
The Queen was bitter: “She didn’t choose me.”
But in a way, she did, all the way.
Why couldn’t they just see what drove her away?
It was a pure lack of safety.
They never heard her voice.
So she still had very little choice.
The loud and angry only hear their own voice.
“But we are the best. It’s Scarlet’s fault she can’t see?”
But Mother was starting to think, “Was it me?”
“Yes, well, maybe. But it’s only flowers I can see.”
“I see the ones I grow, not those who had to change and grow without me.”
Scarlet’s girl came along.
Surely this would be it… but no.
Scarlet was fading with a sickness into the sea.
The sea made her feel ugly and fat.
The queen didn’t want any part of that.
“No way, it was nothing to do with me.”
So she moved away from the lights, nearer the sea.
She hoped for better days and a new life as a family of three.
The Queen joined Scarlet – what glee!
But it became a new form of modern-day slavery for Scarlet.
Shame and blame were so pervasive.
Even Scarlet couldn’t see this life was full of trickery.
2025, and what will life be?
Scarlet trusts Sundays and life as it has to be.
Even a younger man’s love wasn’t meant to be.
He wanted her money, her life, trapping her in misery.
Now there’s just Scarlet and the only true love.
This is an angel born in 2003.
Three generations of love.
It took over 80 years to bring life back to Zoey… a name of legacy.
Addiction nearly cost me my life.
My skills were born of misery.
But in 2003, God blessed me.
Twenty-one years of love saved me.
My daughter will always win.
She is followed closely by my two sausage dogs, my saviors, all three.
By Scarlet Sunday
