Mom by Sherry Skalandis

This is for you and for me.
I?ll try not to be angry.
I?ll try not to be bitter.
I?ll try to be honest.
I?ll try to remember you loved me.

But why did you choose to leave this life?
Didn?t you know we needed you?
Why did I have to be the strong one?

When did you start to die?
Was it when your daughter Sarah Jane died?
Was it when I was eight and wanted to help
And you didn?t have to do so much anymore?
Was it when my depression started?
Did you catch it from me?

Three kids still growing and needing love.
Maybe if you told someone and shared your pain.
Maybe we could have been better
And hugged you more.
We could have helped with the house.
And Daddy could have used softer words.

I was depressed too and wanted a way out.
I used to be jealous.
I used to be angry.
I wanted to take your place.

Everyone wanted to hug me.
Everyone wanted to comfort me.
Everyone said I was strong.
Everyone said I was brave.
Everyone said I was good.
They said I was good to help my dad.
To help my brother and sister.
The hugs and comfort inflated my self esteem.
It made me special.

But reality seeped in as their grief eased.
I didn?t feel strong, brave, or good.
I didn?t want to help my dad, my brother or sister.
I wanted to be a kid, to be a teenager.
Instead I was angry and bitter.

I am no longer angry, bitter, or jealous.
But I still have questions.
That?s why it sounds like I am.