Why is that?

                       So many people rattle of to me, "Oh it
must be nice to live with your mother for free!"

                         Why is that?

                     The layers of guilt tried and played,
I am dealt. The only stablizer is my faith in Jehovah.

                      Pressing me through a moment, in any case,
with my mother. Enduring, I do, with an evening of how
precious, perfect my sister was and my childhood, teenage
years of life.

                     So difficult, demanding it was to be a
babysitter, nurse and parent to an older sister. Yet I
did. There was a rare few moments to relish in being a
kid. Oh the trials I faced, pressed through only to gain
bits and pieces of joy.

                    Oh how silence was truly a blessing. The days
I didn't see my sister because of her staying with friends,
being out late and then stumbling in close to the early
morning light. Such a sweet calmness.

                   Of course I didn't always tell my mother
that she was out. Oh indeed, my selfishness of a night
alone hidden. A bit of earth for me. Cozy, warm
and curled into a ball, reading.

                             Then a great storm.
                                   Turbulence.

                 The quake would rumble and happy solitude
would turn sour just by the hint of her voices, the
pounding of her steps.

                 This, of course, is not what my mother recalls.
This is not what she even wants to remember yet that is
all I remember.

                   The favoritism. The hatred. The cruelty.

                Not only to bounce from one nasty piece
to the next, tidbits flew. Mother. Father. Sister. Then
a mate.

               Hmm. No. Taking care of everyone else is
what I did.

               Now Jehovah helps me to say, "no". I cannot
allow the dirt upon someone's shoe stomp upon me
anymore.

               So yes, the facade of my life of peachiness
is now, somewhat, hinted, noted as not the grand, puffy
cloud of bliss.

                 Indeed we all are imperfect. Some want to
know why I continue to pursue my route, why stay
where I am? It is who I am. I have prevailed with Jehovah's
help and will continue to do so.

               So for all of those who have the personality of
classifying, judging me ~ step in my shoes.

               As for those who think just because the color
of my skin, the gender I am or even where I currently
live that I have no idea what poverty, sickness,
death, hatred or any form of prejudice and racial
slurs are about. However if blinders were removed you
would see a whole new written book.

            I may be worn, tattered but still very readable.
I am bonded well.

              So forgive me if I laugh at the names I am
called, if I ignore the hateful words spoken of and
about me and if I easily forgive even though no fault
lays at my feet. I am just taught that. Through lessons
I have made in life, through Jehovah's written words and
through the teachings of everyone who has helped
raise me to the very woman I am today.

           So no, living with my mother is not easy. Many
a times we have clashed still I know I can overcome
whatever is placed before me. With Jehovah standing firm
as my rock I am capable of everything.

           Yes we all are imperfect so the recollection of stories
about my teenage years with my sister must be heard. I
must allow my mother time to explore, remember one
lost child.

       That I give to my mother, the respect she is due. So
yes perhaps I just grin and bear it. I even may finalize
some parts of the conversation with gentle understanding.

       Then I wander off becaue she is recalling her
precious, child who is now gone. Recalling her
heartache.

        I just fade into the background just as I had taught
myself decades ago. Sorry I cannot feel sorrow for I know
where I am now, backing my mother in her time will increase
the levels of pure joy.

       So I wait for recognition. I wait for the changes of
subjects and continue to be peaceful with my mother.