There are times when I wonder if my mother stays up each night
With only the never ending loop of her parental mistakes sliding through her thoughts
A misplaced word here
A blow-up there
A stray hand that left it’s mark
The flinches that were almost louder than the screams that followed them
I wonder if they stop her dead in her tracks during the day
Knock the wind out of her lungs
I wonder if her heart aches
Not too dissimilar from the aches that she left upon mine and my siblings own
I wonder these things
Because I too have the loop
I am constantly reminded of the ways I could have been a better big sister
How I silenced my youngest sister for fear that CPS would separate us all
How I didn’t step in when the hands flew too fast
How I didn’t protect my youngest brother when the words climbed decibels and still, could not be understood by his infant ears
Is it so hard to believe that she and I share similar pains
That, although I have no children of my own, I too, have played a part in the deterioration in my siblings childhood
How much pain could I have saved them from if only I wasn’t a child myself?
