Discomfort

I was an accident, but a nice one. You've always told me that. Brother Jeff says I’m your favourite; the apple of your eye. But the truth is I’m not much of a daughter to you, am I Mum?

--YOU ARE EVERYTHING I WAS NEVER ABLE TO BE.

Why didn't you baptise me like my other siblings. Daddy said no, I know, but why? Why stop short for number five? Why didn't you push the issue? Doesn't the bible say only his flock will be saved?

--IT DIDN’T MATTER IN THE END, DID IT? YOU HAVE SAVED YOURSELF.

Why weren't you the supportive mother? You could have encouraged me to do activities, to make friends, to play sport, to better myself doing whatever. Instead you left me to do everything of my own volition.

--BECAUSE YOU WERE MORE THAN CAPABLE OF DOING IT ON YOUR OWN, DEAR.

“Never mind” was the best I could get out of you whenever something unfortunate happened to me. Whereas you were like some inconsequential vague nothingness that took to her bed for days and weeks in despair for no apparent reason. I was lost with it.

--AS WAS I. AND YOU COPIED ME FOR A TIME, BUT YOU CONQUERED THAT TOO MY ANGEL.

Why can’t you wake up, woman up and fulfil the destiny befitting for the hugely intelligent person I know hides under all your trivial talk about what the neighbours are doing, mauve things, the City Council and what’s on TV?

--I’M SCARED DARLING. IT’S LATE; THERE SEEMS LITTLE POINT. I HAVE PLANS FOR ANOTHER LIFETIME

Why, when you’re going through troubles now that I’m an adult, can I only seem to cry for me and not for you? You never hit me or treated me badly. You are kind and generous and loving. Why can’t I feel like most people feel about their parents?

--IT IS WHAT IT IS. IT IS AS MUCH MY JOURNEY AS IT IS YOURS. I'M PROUD OF YOU AND I LOVE YOU. AND YOU LOVE YOUR BOY.