Dear Mother

Dear Mother,

When the walls came tumbling down around us,

we were so worried about how our father would react

when we should have been worried about you.

You who was always there to talk to

You who was always there lift us up

even when you were at your lowest.

You who never had the best relationship with your parents

but still tried your best to make sure they were comfortable.

I played a part in this. I am guilty of pushing you aside when you needed us.

The loss hurt us all, but we forgot that you were grieving the most.

To lose a father. To lose a son.

One to death, one to foolishness.

Dear Mother,

You told me that it gets harder as the months pass,

as your anger builds to a tipping point.

"How could he do this when we've given him so much?"

I told you that sometimes people feel that they don’t deserve happiness.

It becomes a cycle of self-destruction

in a feeble attempt to fix our broken hearts.

With the scent of pine and the soft humming in the kitchen,

you wrap yourself in comfort to console your weeping heart.

Dear Mother,

The storm has passed but the wounds are still fresh.

Though we are no longer splintered, I see how the battle has worn you down.

Time can only heal so much. It is a balm, a placating gesture where words should be.

Dear Mother, Pillar, Fighter, Defender,

You’ve been alone in this fight for far too long.

It’s time to lift that burden off your shoulders and give it to me.

Sincerely,

Daughter