she did grow up at nautilus teachings

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“do you know
the sacrifices i make
for this family?”
“if you were a better mother
then i would not have
to punish them every day…”
SHE STAYED.
30 years later
I STAYED.
21 years later
her child STAYED.
back to the kids…
they all grew up.
SHE DIED YOUNG.
yet, he still lived.
did they mourn the loss
of her or
of HIM surviving?
and at her funeral he said,
“i know you all wish it was me…”
none of them acknowledged his words,
yet they all yearned to turn back time-
to that day in 1984
when the words flowed
so effortlessly,
“you have Leukemia
and have 6 months to live…”
why couldn’t it have been him?
why the heart of the family,
the one pure good thing
bonding them all together?
and now that she was gone
he put the pressure on her
to hold the family together,
to heal them,
to right the wrong
which burdened
this family…
she could not be
any of their mothers…
she had no capacity to love
to forgive
and their was no
bonding agent…

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on the day he would
eventually die,
would she cry?
would the remaining siblings
find the glue to which
attached them
or would she peer into the eyes
of strangers,
walk away
and never look back…
she spent her days writing her truths…
truths not one person
acknowledged
for they live a life of lies…
and she,
she was their truth.
how many times had she
looked at them in fear?
how many words
did she have to raise
her shield of faith to
hoping they would not
land upon her tiny soul?
and in her tears shed,
did they ever raised a kind hand?
ever say “i’m sorry”,
ever hold her when she hurt
listen to her stories
laugh at her silliness?
she wanted them to
make dandelion wishes with her
to stand in front of her
and offer protection
she wanted them to tell
her secrets
to cry and laugh together
about how they all felt
being hurt and controlled
by him
she wanted to build a bond so strong
between them
nothing could bend or break it…
you would never hear him say,
“it’s my fault she’s dead…”
no!
instead he would point a finger
straight at you
uttering the words,
“you killed your mother…”

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he could never say,
“i loved her too much…”
but you,
you could honestly say,
“she was my heart and i loved her
more than any person i have known…”
he would move on
building his armored shell-
never revealing a nuance of truth:
that not only
was their no bond between them
their would be no
exchanges of true heartfelt love
they would only remember
his stubborn, iron silence
and as they all grew up
away and into themselves
they would all hide
from the world
that which he tattooed
upon all their souls-
they were nothing…
never good enough
smart enough
rich enough
and they and their children
were all failures…
she did grow up
she moved away
she lived her truths
she forgave them all
even though he never said
i am sorry
never apologized
it all just did not matter…
she had to end the
endless deep pit of hurt
for it took away
all her breath
drained her of color
and left her
cornered…
she was no more
the little girl lost
she was the dandelion
stretched tall and lean
her face to the wind
letting tiny pieces of her
attach to all those
who entered
her under the red wooden steps world
of whimsy, color, faith and love…

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