All the things I could have experienced with her is a figment of my imagination. As close as I could be with any of my aunts, I am not as I am to her. I can only cry when I look at her and wish for certain things that will never be. The ones that get ripped from you are the ones that would be here holding your hand every step of the way. The ones that would be laughing hysterically with you until you pissed your pants. The ones that would drop anything to come to your side. All of them are gone.
Up until this very moment, I felt a bit of anger towards my mother for not giving us children what we deserved. A better life. A better life than what. We are who we are. As much as I'd like to say she should have given us this this and this, I can no longer say those things. I can no longer be mad for not having what another family has. I can't want something that will never be. I let all the memories of our childhood take over that part of me. I didn't allow myself to remember the good in all of this chaos. I refused to sit down and think about everything that we did and who we shared it with. Because I was selfish and wanted more. She gave me more. If it was not for my mother who brought me into this god forsaken life, I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be the woman I am today. I am far from perfect. I yell and swear. I get frustrated and cry. I brake down and melt. I have suicidal thoughts. What days I break, are the days I'm put back together. Those are the days I make myself whole again. The things that I experienced as a child were far from what others encountered. My life was the creme de la creme compared to millions of other children. My life wasn't peaches and cream. It was rather dysfunctional. But when you have a hundred cousins and siblings, you tiny creatures protect until the death. We were always together making sure one another was by the others side. We had to. The parents were elsewhere. We had each other and I think if we hadn't we would be far gone. As much of a mess as it was and still is, God gave it to us. He gave me my mother. My mother who is the only one who calls to talk to me. Besides my sister. She loves and always thinks of others. She never forgets a birthday. And as clueless as she may be, not a single fucking person acknowledges that she's the leader of the pack. You should never give up on her. Everyone makes mistakes and no one is perfect. You have to realize, she was born first. She went through more in her childhood than any of the other kids. No one said SORRY to her. No one felt her pain. No one cared or gave a shit that she had the worst fucking childhood and then lived a messed up life because she had NO ONE. She had her kids. And at night when she was all fucked up, she came home to sing "Satin Sheets to Lie On" in my ear. We were the only thing she had.
And instead of giving her the love and support she needs, everyone bashed her. Talks shit about her, including me. I am so sorry mom. I should have had your back from the beginning but instead I was mind boggled and thought that you could have done better. Which maybe you could have but I don't hate you for that. I love you more than the air I breathe, more than anyone except my children. The kids that I wouldn't have if it wasn't for you, so thank you. Thank you for giving me LIFE and letting me have these beautiful girls to raise. You mean the absolute world to me and I love you endlessly. I wish I could hold you in my arms and kiss your cheeks right now like you do me.
