Peanut Butter and Jelly

Twenty-eight years ago today

during a new moon lunar eclipse.

I brought a baby girl into the world.

I nursed her until she grew teeth.

I changed my entire life

to raise this child by myself.

When her grandmother was dying of cancer,

I changed my grad school plans,

gave up my dream of Boston

to stay closer to home.

Charleston.

Came back home with a Master’s degree

and a child with one fewer grandmother

and father—he freaked out

and fell off the map, breaking

every heart. I built the best life I could

for her, never quite making ends meet,

never having time for myself,

not even on my anniversary

after I eventually married.

Peanut butter and jelly,

goldfish crackers,

fucking bomb pops.

Trips with her friends to Carowinds

fancy hotel suites.

Cars.

I celebrated her every year,

sent her to summer camp

with horses.

Gymnastics, cheerleading, roller derby,

and rehab

So she can get drunk

with her stepmother

and tell me

how worthless I am.