EPILOGUE of a family

someone-did-you-wrong

 

I can’t contain the pain

if I have to witness it over and over again

See the faces of people who

wouldn’t mind if I ceased to exist.

Who wouldn’t care if I was here or not

So long ago I said, two words would make it better

“I’m sorry” I hurt you

“I have nothing to be sorry about.” Ouch.

That slap loosened a tooth

Nothing to be sorry about ringing in my ears

Who wants to deal with that? 

Pretend it wasn’t said.

I can’t do that. My bones break too easily

Do you know what it’s like to a pariah?

Seven years alone with family all around me?

I gave my sister a hug the other day

said thank you, I appreciate you

To show HER how to be human

and she’s supposed to be a Christian?

Maybe God will kick HER through the pearly gates

for being phony

The Golden Rule is useless

if you don’t know what it means – or why

What does that faith teach you?

It doesn’t matter if you hurt someone?

because God forgives the hurtful things you do? 

You think that lets you off the hook?

Or after awhile it just fades away and doesn’t matter?

It matters to me

So sad how some people can be in their righteousness

She would have never tried to hug me

I hope that makes her feel good. 

It sure hasn’t changed her for the better

Too many causes. To many effects to reap

 

Sometimes I want to make my family hurt

as much as they hurt me

That’s wrong. But I’m human, too. I lash out.

She knows pain but she gave mine no validity

She taught her daughter well

She is her mother’s daughter

passes judgement without knowledge

She’s evil with a black heart, but I’ll pray for her

even though I’m just an old hag, drug addict

The other one is just a long lost cause

I tried – gave her a part of me. Gave it with love 

It was wasted. She spit it back at me

Kicked me, too – so callous – then she blamed me 

It’s my fault for thinking she would acknowledge

a gift from my heart

Thank you for your kindness

At least LISTEN to the goddam music I wrote

A 1000 other people did.  She called me names

because I dared to write – my family never learned

to say the words “I’m sorry”

or to say the words  “Thank you”

or “Tell me, what IS YOUR side of the story?

What could you have done?

You could have listened

I was screaming for you to hear me – but no one heard 

How dare I want compassion

You have none to give

It is what the Bible teaches

 

Mom blames me

I should not have left home at 18 with her blessings

She said, “If you have no family now it’s your own fault.”

“You should not have lived your own life in other places

Why should they love you now? Who are you?”

I’m sorry. If I knew I’d be punished for returning

I would have never come.

I thought. . . I was wrong . . . they would care . . .

at least a little

Then it stands to reason

why should my mom love her sister in Mexico?

Like the Amish who shun their children if they leave

I was shunned – because I returned

“People can’t love someone who isn’t there,”

she said, defending her family

even though many of her family loves her

and they live far away

Does she love them any less because of that?

She said I shouldn’t blame them for not caring

it’s my fault my fault my fault

She gathered her family close to her

and set me outside the circle

Made sure they cared more about her wellbeing with nothing left for me

And you don’t even know why

she told the stories she did to make you want to be rid of me

I didn’t understand myself at first 

why she made me not worthy of loving because

“Mom doesn’t lie”

Not a lie, just a twisting of reality

wrapped around her needs

A complete truth was created from it

But it wasn’t the truth

Spider legs of fabricated story line

bears no relation to the truth

Ego can be an ugly thing when wielded like a dagger

Perceived criticism must be punished!

Off with your head!

Even when the criticism was all in your head anyway

 

I begged and begged over the years

“Please tell them the truth.”

You took my family from me

Tell them what you did and why

but ego held her tight

I was accused of harassing her so no truth was told

All these years we talked and talked, “Please fix this”

No one will listen to me. I tried

“It’s not the right time.” “I don’t have the courage.”

“WHAT do you WANT me to do about it now!

I can’t take this anymore!!”

and hung up the phone

From someone who says she never gives up

She gave up

Ego can be a hurtful weapon 

when you sacrifice someone you love to protect yourself

I listen to her talk about HER family and everything they do

STOP! I don’t want to hear about people

who are dead to me!

I was dead to them long before. They killed me first

I just repaid their kindness

 

You keep ripping off the scabs. It’s infected underneath

pus leaks down my legs

It can’t heal – like the death of a son can’t heal

Is your pain deeper? More important?

Do you feel it more? Is pain-pain?

Is the death of a son more important than the death of a family?

I thought they were family

That was my mistake

 

I am a person – a real person – a living, breathing person

I feel things deeply.

It comes out in music no one wants to hear

It comes out in poetry no one wants to read

I lived – and no one cares I did – How can that be so?

Mom said, “Really, they DO love you.” Really?

I’d hate to be on the receiving end of indifference.

I only think she wanted to believe they loved me 

wishful thinking to make me feel better – she knew

you had better things to do

than give me a moment of your time

the price of a stamp on a get well card too much

And it isn’t what you DO

It’s what you say. It’s what you try to understand

A bull in a china shop approach to love is abrasive

You don’t listen. You don’t want to know

 

There was no one to celebrate me – I lived. I didn’t die

So what. No-Big-Deal.

Nothing I’ve been through was important

No one showed me I mattered – except my older sister

Her lying husband killed that

I have those lies in black and white

A dozen times mom said, 

“It’s your own fault for trying

to create a relationship with THAT man”

“I warned you.”

“Do what I do, ” which is nothing, tell everyone, blame her 

and lose your daughter 

while waiting for her to let you in. “What did I do?” Nothing.

making it her fault – never listening to her silent screams

“I’m here. I’m a real person!”

You still think, “What can I do now”

You’re still breathing aren’t you?

but still you wait for her to make it better

Ever think she might be waiting, too?

You’re the mother

Where is your proof? You said,” I never give up!” Did you?

Yes you did. Don’t fool yourself – and you still breathe

Someday you won’t and it really will be too late

The reflection in the mirror tells you the truth

Will you leave this life letting your ego win?

I’m sorry if the truth hurts

 

I saw Cindy. The real Cindy. She saw me – for awhile

But she needed Bill more than she needed a sister

She made a choice to believe

I sent a nasty text I didn’t send to her

At the hospital, she didn’t get the one I really sent

As he reads this lie to everyone

Bastard. Lying phony blowhard plastic Christian

That says it all. Everyone else has said the same thing

He should be ashamed

 

But Cindy? Why would I have hurt

the only one who loved me?

I miss her.  She loved me for a little while. I still have that

The first and ONLY time I ever had a real sister

Bill, in all his new found Christianess

needed her to wear a cross

How would it “look” if she didn’t hold up her end

of the game of massaging his ego 

but I know her true feelings

because he was going to preach now, after he got out of jail 

for waving his drunken gun

feed his large ego – be the center of attention 

I am Buddhist and he said she will NEVER be one

in his control

He lied to her and took away the only family I had 

For 2 years she was the only family I could touch

Then she was gone

 

I made the effort to get my mother back

MY EFFORT. Not hers. Why?

Regrets. I couldn’t let her do to me what happened to Cindy

I couldn’t let her make herself believe

she had done all she could

and believe this mess was all my fault

Telling tales. Making people feel the need

to protect you from me

No courage to open yourself – lay it on the line

“I made a mistake. I didn’t mean to. I love my daughters”

“But I don’t have the courage to change the causes I made

that brought these painful effects.”

You let me hurt. Told me to fix it

 

And I cry for my mother

I love her from the very bottom of my heart

I see the pain of helplessness on her face

She didn’t intend for this to happen

But intentions have no meaning

It’s what you do that counts

That is the cause you made

She’s running out of time – wasting time

She wants to forget about it

She wants to pretend she’s happy in the time she has left

sweep it under the rug, but it won’t stay there

It slithers out and grabs her by the ankle

 

There is an elephant in the room no one wants to see

I’m too busy. It’s not my fault. Who cares anyway.

A broken record. I can’t pick up the pieces by myself 

with people who never wanted to understand

I want to run away – I probably will first chance I get

I won’t tell anyone when I go.

Leave this godawful mess for another lifetime to fix

I’m not strong enough to be around you all

I want to hurt you back

Make you bleed inside.

Pour salt on your wounds and walk away 

laughing – So there! How does THAT feel?

Wouldn’t that make me a terrible person?

I’d be in good company

You can pretend to everyone else

but you can’t pretend to yourself

 

Imagine if all your family died in a plane crash

Left many things unsaid. If I only had the time to say . . .

Sister, of all people knows what it’s like

to not be able to change the past

what would you do different if you had the chance

I’m so sorry about your pain. I feel it deep inside

Do you think she ever thought about mine?

Even my last surgery when I almost lost my arm

and the ability to make music.

No phone call. No “How are you? Are you scared?

 

I’m thinking about you.

Don’t give up hope. I love you.”

So easy. So impossibly hard

She was beyond the ability to care.  They all were. 

So what. Not my problem they thought, if they thought at all

 

If you don’t like I wrote this for the world to read

Maybe you should have listened when I tried to talk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

AN EMPTY BOX OF GET WELL CARDS

AN EMPTY BOX OF GET WELL CARDS

 

I opened up my box of cards to lovingly remember

The cards from those who cared about me and wanted me to know

I was important to them in their lives . . . Love, the sender

The sender had no name, no address on the card

Who was I to no name was signed below

I sat and thought and tried to think, to remember hurt is hard

I looked down at empty hands because there was no card

 

I sat and held my empty box pretending it was full

It was instead my mother’s box which held the love for her

Showered with their love, she caressed them one and all

She looked at every single one, a smile upon her face

Thinking of how loved she was, the memories recalled

Feeling happy she was loved because she is my mother

Not thinking how I’d feel because my family didn’t care

enough to send a card to me, my face had been erased

 

“Why?” you ask, “was this so, did they not care for you?”

“Why do you think they pulled away and wouldn’t show they cared?”

A tragedy to be alone when there was one thing they could do

In all these years they never tried, with so much life to share?

“Why did they turn? What did you do for them to cause such pain?”

They listened to only one side, my mother’s truth for her

My side had no meaning, it was me who was to blame

Why add my truth, hers was enough, don’t take both sides and stir

 

The whole truth just might change their minds, a need to say “I’m sorry”

With crossed arms, chin in the air, no lips can say those words

Admit that you just might be wrong? Not you. You never could.

“I must protect our mom from you, I will NOT hear your story

If you live or if you die, I won’t be by your side

Neither will my husband, son or daughter so don’t worry

We’d rather you just go away, be rid of you for good

We won’t call or send a card, no one cares if you cried.”

 

She said, “I stand by what I know – the words our mother spoke.

She told me she was hurt by you, I can’t support you both

I don’t care what really happened, why mom said the things she did

You’re on your own, I do not care no matter what your truth

It’s too late to change my mind. Believe me, there’s no hope

I do not care.  Not worth my time. I have better things to do

With all my friends who love me, who needs love from you?”

 

I take my empty box of cards and put it on the floor

Crush it underneath my feet, smash it on all sides

Throw it in the trash outside, hoping not try once more.

I know fully what I’ve lost, I wonder if they do.

I know myself, what I have to give, this isn’t said with pride

I know the person I’ve become, was it worth it to burn

all future possibilities becoming future smiles

remember future time, now past, but never happened. Never learned.

 

No music ever written to celebrate a day

No poems ever written to engrave a deep felt thought

No picture ever taken and shared with love and smiles

Never sent across the world no matter what the miles

No victory of children’s growth, funny smiles or love to share

No sadness felt when things go wrong. No one knows to say, “I care.”

Birth, aging, sickness, death. The cycle all life follows

Who will hear when you have something to say.

The echo sounds ring hollow

 

 

 

 

Are You Really Going to Eat That Stuff?

Ah! What do I do next today? Read? Write a letter to Jamie or Armando of other inmates I care about? Work on my book, answer msgs that came in concerning other posts? Put on my shoes and go walk as I try to build up my strength? Make phone calls personal or business? Life is full. I’m busy. I’M ALIVE!

When I woke this morning and struggled to an upright position feeling every pain in my body telling trying to convince me to give up, ( I have that thought every morning) I  swallowed 5 mgs of methadone, my blood pressure med, an extra strength Tylenol and anti-rejection pills for my liver transplant and went to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee with a little organic vanilla creamer. There is nothing better than that first swallow of hot coffee in the morning. (my morning begins at noon and bedtime is around 4-5 am) My husband always makes sure it is ready and waiting. I try as much as possible to limit putting chemicals into my body because I’ve researched it enough over the years and found the saying “you are what you eat” is very true. If you have the ability to choose what you eat and don’t care, then accept the fact your food is going to lead you to a different death through cancer, heart disease, diabetes, stroke or memory loss. Your choice.  It could happen anyway but your chances are a hell-of-a-lot greater.

I stumbled back to my bed with my hand on the wall for balance. I can’t take the chance of falling again. The last time nearly derailed me. I have to wait for the pain meds to go to work. All because of the effects of the causes I made earlier in my life. But I’m still here and kicking, not wasting a single precious moment of life, because I sure do love living! Do you? Or do you exist just to die; a question we need to ask ourselves especially when we get older. Now that I am far enough over 60, optimistically having a third of my life left to live, how do I want to live that life? That is a choice we make, because much of it takes place in our minds which dictates what actions we take.

cart of processed food

We all die. But our actions help bring about how that happens. I have tried more times than I can count to help people close to me understand the consequences of the food they eat and what certain ingredients do to their health, but damn, they just don’t care – enough – to stop eating things that only TASTE GOOD! Who cares what your body is supposed to do with the chemicals in their food even though it’s killing them. I realized I cared more about them than they cared about themselves. I had to understand they had the right to destroy their life any way they wanted. I was naive when I thought if they knew they would want to stop destroying themselves. I was wrong about that. The attitude most people have is – you gotta die somehow. So who cares? Or they think they really are doing the best they can and fool themselves.

I can look at people in society, and often see their health. In grocery stores I have to fight with myself to not go up to people’s grocery carts with a perplexed look on my face and ask them, “Are you really going to EAT that stuff?” If I started doing that I’d never get out of the store. Why don’t they care? Their life has it’s own complex reasons and nothing I say will change that, so I don’t try.

Case in point – my mother has diabetes and she had a stroke a year ago. For at least ten years, since it was diagnosed, I tried to teach her what she needed to know about the food she was eating that caused her diabetes. I might as well have talked to a wall. She was going to eat what she wanted to eat regardless of the possible consequences.

We all have our own addictions. I surely understand that. Now my mother is in a wheel chair with a brace on her leg if she wants to walk with her walker. her body is weak now from little use. The phrase, “A body in motion stays in motion” is also a truism. Her mind and memory now is like Swiss cheese.

It’s been hard watching her decline and wondering, could this have been prevented, if her life and the quality of it had mattered more? It’s too late now. The damage is done. All of us have to live with the consequences of our actions. In Buddhism it’s called the law of cause and effect. In Christianity it is taught, you reap what you sow. In everyday secular life, what goes around comes around. It’s all real. It’s absolute, but most people ignore things they don’t think applies to them.

My younger sister now shoots insulin, and my daughter takes pills, and both also have diabetes. They “try” to eat better. Major cop out. That really means, “I try to eat better sometimes but if I see something I want to eat, I’m going to eat it”. If I had that attitude with the problems caused myself I’d be dead. No one cares to learn from my mistakes or learn the knowledge I know, even if it would help them. They don’t have to listen to me, but where is that gut level desire to live and learn what it takes to implementing good food instead of good tasting tasting food in their diet on their own? I don’t understand that. At all.

If my sister eats her way into a stroke it’s not my problem to deal with. At 61 she better shit or get off the pot because the effects of diabetes are nipping at her heels. But I promise to give her all the love and caring she showed me as I fought to live, which means I’ll ignore her. My daughter at age 36 I will fight tooth and nail for, to help encourage her to exchange her diabetes for better health. I will do for her what my immediate family never did for me – if she ever needs me.

Learning lessons from the mountains we climb and gaining wisdom from it is what propels us through life. It teaches us compassion. That can be paid forward to people you can help and encourage. My family taught me how cruel family can be. My “family” are people I’m not blood related to, at least the ones I was born with. That family is gone.

It is only fair I put in a disclaimer. My older sister was there for me through my illness. She was the only one. Literally the only one who cared enough to come see me when I spent two years in bed. Isn’t that sad? Through the insecurities of someone else I lost the only family I thought I had an honest relationship with, and that hurt. It still does. Sometimes people need to believe things that aren’t true to validate what they do.

So on that note I’m going to eat breakfast, put on my shoes and go outside on this beautiful day. I’m going to take a deep breath of flower scented air, smile and exclaim what a great day it is to be alive, and go climb a few mountains. Hills really, carrying a container of coconut water, the best hydrating liquid there is with all the electrolytes I’m going to sweat out. Gatorade is crap.

The Argument

arguing

I find it hard to deal with people who hurt

rip skin from my body, scrape scabs from my sores

which never can heal from words that pervert

In the name of love they condemn my life more

I’m tired oh so tired from playing this game

defending myself from people with doubt

If I fight back then I am to blame

It couldn’t be their words spit out from the start

negative comments, emotions strike out

flung like a sword and impaling the heart

—————–

When I’m hurt, I bleed, I don’t have control

I’m human, I tell you, you cut me to shreds

thrown under the bus, no way to console

my feelings are worn out and hanging by threads

I know I will never be understood

You feel threatened by truth, you don’t want to see

that I have no family, to them I’m no good

you cried I can’t take this, you criticized me

and threw one last insult . . . I knew you would

You never thought what your words would do

to my life, because it was all about you

argue

If you say you can’t take it and don’t watch what you say

You expect me to stay here and listen to this?

forget the way you ruined my day

putting down what I do again strikes to the heart

Is my life so easy for you to dismiss?

“I hate your blog” isn’t the best way to start

First words from your mouth when I walk in the door

How can you say that when you know what I do?

My passion for living, no one cares that’s for sure

From the day I arrived it was all about you

This ripped apart family has no love anymore.

Sonni Quick  copyright 2017