Hopeful

I am sitting here playing Clockmaker on my phone moving into my daily mode. As I am my mind is aimlessly wandering around and I keep touching down on one small thing.

Mom is home June 9th. T is getting out of school and we are going to pick her up at the airport. Now I have not seen her in nigh on 3 years. Neither has my brother. I have not seen my brother in almost 5 years. There are things. And the SIL.

I received a text from mom asking me to think of a place that she, the brother, T and I plus assuming SIL and family for breakfast the day she arrived. My response was visceral. My heart began to race. I began to shake. Tears formed in my eyes. And I shot off a text to mom saying no can do.

Mom had forgotten. Which I now realize I need to take into consideration. Sorry mom it happens to us all. I forget things all the time. All the time. Yesterday not only did I lose my work keys-did find those-and my work sweater. Never found that.

I am very concerned that the brother is going to disregard my wishes as relayed via mom. It would not surprise me. Same with her brother. While I cannot plan for it, will not plan for it, it is a worry in the back of my mind.

I have worked very hard to rid myself of the things I did to harm myself. Pills. 1460 days clean. Alcohol. 655 days sober. The trauma that contributed to these behaviours was faced. To the extent my brain allows and which I have said before I am thankful for.

I was taken to task for the near overdose in 2017 that put me on the path to recovering my truth and self. I was ignored and berated when mom fell ill and the brother needed to fly out there to see to her. I understand he was in a position to do so. I was not. However there is a thing called respect and talking things through but nope.

I am hoping with writing my fears out and addressing them that I can set these worries aside. I can hope that both the brother and mom’s will respect that I am picking her up and we are coming home to get her settled.

I am hoping.

May 5/22

He’s Mine

“He’s Mine!”

“No, He’s Mine!”

Voices raised

screaming match

petulant siblings

unwilling to compromise.

Tugged

back and forth

seesawing motion

‘He’s Mine’

tried to struggle free.

Screams

turn to shrieks

single handed punches

finally calling forth

mama’s roaring voice.

“He’s Mine”

Tugged right.

“No He’s Mine”

Tugged left.

‘That’s enough!’

mama roared.

“Stop squabbling.

Over a little man!

Let him go right now!”

Sudden fright

sisters dropped

‘He’s Mine’

to the floor.

‘He’s mine’

wasted no time

fleeing the scene.

Quick glance

reassured

he would be a toy no more.

 

 

 

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