I, Mary MacLane/Chapter 30
A life-long lonely word
To-morrow
FLEETING times I wonder if it is my defect or others' that no human family tie holds and warms me.
There is none. I think about it with wistfulness.
The only tie-of-blood feeling that clings to me is of my warming and keeping-alive. And it is very feeble. It grows more feeble.
It is a trivial matter as I look at it universally.
But as I look at it earthlily: there would be an abnormalness, a lostness in one when the mother who bore her got from it at best but a small cool dislike.
It makes me feel humanly lost.
'Lost' is the shuddering life-long lonely word that brushes against me some nights and noons.