Kentucky Kaleidoscope

The Exorcism of Lila Rose

The accounts of this story are all true. After the house was partially built, my mother took it upon herself to rescue the family from its own turmoil, as she often reminds us. She started frantically searching for work, which seemed like a good idea at first. As a child, I remember her taking on a few part-time jobs here and there.

We moved to Richmond because my mom had a vision from God to establish a center where people could come and meditate on the word of God. She majored in Graphic Design, just like me, and worked as a designer for several years before becoming a stay-at-home mom. She even tried freelancing from home before it became too challenging.

I have a vivid memory of sitting on the shaggy dark green carpet as a child, staring at the black and white Mac computer with her brochure on it. I watched as she cursed after stepping on a small McDonald's toy, spraining her ankle in the process. My sister and I stared at her helplessly with our innocent toddler eyes.

Yes, my memory goes back that far. It's strange that I can't remember what I wore yesterday, but I can vividly recall being in my car seat in Austin, Texas, watching the rain fall on the car window.

I also remember stepping on a hill of fire ants and screaming my head off, but that's a story for another time.

Despite her efforts, my mother continued to search for the "perfect job," often encountering setbacks and leaving positions for reasons I can't fully explain. She saw herself as a victim, believing that others were conspiring against her. There were always seemingly valid reasons for her sudden departures. When we came home from school or my dad returned from work trips, my mom would show up frantically around 8 or 9 pm, explaining without question why she had impulsively quit or left her job.

Over time, we accepted this as a fact and learned not to question her reality or her reasons. She wouldn't allow any other reality to sneak into her story.

As the years went by, my mother stopped cooking meals. Our food became sloppy, cold, and scattered. I started cooking more as a kid, learning how to make meals out of ramen and chicken pot pies. Egg rolls and microwaveable bean burritos became common food choices. Sometimes, when I opened the pantry, there wouldn't be much to eat, so my sisters and I would scavenge for whatever we could find.

My friends often made fun of me because whenever I visited their houses, I would immediately go to their pantry in search of food. Little did they know, I was starving most of the time because we weren't being properly fed.

My father, who often cooked for us when he was home, also traveled extensively as a salesman. This left my mother to take care of us. Sometimes she would cook, but most of the time she would be gone, and we wouldn't know when or if she would return. Her absences were often work-related or due to projects she had created in her mind.

Her jobs became her obsession and her downfall. She became consumed by the pursuit of the perfect job, even pursuing a master's degree and accumulating significant financial debt in the process. She believed that achieving this ideal would bring peace and end the turmoil that lingered in her soul after the house was never quite finished.

I suppose she thought that finding the perfect job would fix her life and make her problems disappear. Maybe she believed it would allow her to fix the house the way she envisioned and provide her with unlimited wealth. Perhaps it was an unattainable ideal that her mother had instilled in her, a desire for wealth and importance.

I'll never truly understand why my mother is so obsessed with work and wealth. Maybe we all have our own obsessions. For me, it's perfection. For others, it may be religion or vanity.

It's neither right nor wrong; it's just a fact. My mother isn't the type to participate in PTA or make casseroles. She was always absent, leaving us wondering, "Where is your mother?" My mom performs an exorcism on my sister. Whether you believe in demons or not is of little consequence. I will tell you the events of this story and let you decide.