Rare without them

I have to say

It's a rare day

To see the time go by

As I stare in my eyes

Upon the mirror's reflection

And think of myself and

Those of my family along with the ones that came before me

About how they scringed, and fought, and scrounged,

The family tree's historical story

I have to admit that I'm glad

Cause I have a privilege most don't

Which is a Mom and a Dad

It's weird that I don't talk to them every single day, by choice

Cause every time we're on the phone my mom says that

"I missed the sound of Your voice."

Sometimes I feel like a disrespectful son

Cause I'll be engrossed in TV, a game, or some impertinent chore while on the run

It's still very rare to think that my family's weird

Cause in love, one another we smother

So, it's weird to on days that I forget that I'm a brother

It's weird when I'm so self-centered that I forget I have siblings

Even with such focus, they manage to give me

Time out of their day to send me things to laugh and vibe

It's not always a reunion, sometimes we check in just to make sure one another's alive

It's weird and a rare day when I think that most families get to live close

Our immediate's equally separated from paternal and maternal, relative to both

It's a rare day when I think that siblings arguing is normal

Especially since our parents told us how to debate one another with grammatical language that's formal

It's a rare day when I want to do nothing and don't go out to play

Since being active is apart of my, a living continuance of my parents' DNA

It's a rare day when I look at myself and don't see my family as apart of me

Even though my siblings and I are establishing our careers, spaced out rather separately

It's a rare day when I don't want to think about the health of the ones that I love

It's a rare day when we don't say "I love You," after arguing when push-comes-to-shove

It's a rare day when I'm not thankful for all that I've been given.

It's a rare day when I don't count my familial blessings and for the time that we're livin'

It's a rare day when I'm so furious at them that I don't want to see them if I'm feeling crossed

It's a rare day when I don't mourn the time that I spend with them, cause in the future when we're gone I'll be sad about our loss.

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Author's Notes: This comment was originally published on Heather Hubler's poem "a rare day."