The rolling pin

It is made of white marble with beautiful grey steaks running this way and that. A wooden handle on either end. It rests in a wooden cradle. It has helped make bread, pastries, pies and my favorite, sugar cookies with grandchildren. It is the one of a few of the treasures I have in my kitchen. It sits just below one of my favorite cookbooks. I am very careful when I was it for fear it may break. It has its own story.
 Years ago on a fall November day it came into my life and kitchen in an unexpected way. I went that day for a visit to a beautiful lady. She had trouble getting around that day and asked , well more like motioned for her husband to get something from the kitchen. He shook his head no but she insisted ,this went back and forth for a few minutes. Finally she won out and he went to the kitchen. He emerged from the kitchen with it in his hands and set it beside me on the couch without saying a word.  The lady spoke and said I want you to have this because of any one in the family you will use it the most. I thanked her immensly, not really realizing exactly why she was giving it to me. Had she bought herself a new one? She still made awesome apple pies,didn't she?
I took it home and set it on my counter. My husband thought it was nice. I was in love with it. Its kind of odd because as a child my grandmother had one just like it. As a teenager I accidentally broke it and have never forgotten that feeling of dread when I told my mom. I used it a few times that fall but we had just moved and I had unpacking to do and a new town to learn the ins and outs of, plus I had just had knee surgery.
 That winter the lady passed away. My husband and I grieved and not much else that winter. In the spring  came new beginnings. I began to use it more and more, making dinners and treats with it. The lady , myself and grandchildren are the only ones that have used it as far as I know. I can't say there is magic in it but It sure feels magical using it. One day I will pass it on and it will have a new story until then I will continue to use it and always remember the beautiful lady who entrusted it to me. My rolling pin!

My memories are just that, mine. They are not what you want them to be. Facts are facts. You can't just change the facts, they are what they are. As I discover more and more about the past I realize and see clearly things I never understood. The truths I uncover you are afraid of, so you make up things to discredit my memories. The truth is the truth. I told you then but you called me a liar and turned your back on me. In front of others you pretended everything was fine.  No one saw the hurt you inflicted by not believing. Then years later you pretend as though you never knew and if you had known you would have helped. I even went to people of authority that wouldn't believe me and so the abuse continued. I wasn't allowed to think for myself, my rights were violated and taken from me and you sat by and let it happen. If it was happening to me then it wasn't happening to you. But you were suppose to look after me, be my protector and you failed your one and only task.