Ten years later,
and I am still angry at you.
Patting his hand
while he lay in a coma.
Telling him it was OK to die.
It wasn’t your right.
Perhaps you forget,
no one has the right
to tell someone it is their time to die.
Only the gods can decide
that it is or is not ok
for someone to journey
from the physical to the spirit.
It was not ok for him to die.
It was never ok for you to say that.
Why should you care?
You always get your way.
Ten years later,
and she’s still angry at you, too.
Not letting her go in.
Not letting her say goodbye.
You aren’t her mother.
It wasn’t your right.
Perhaps you forget,
you have your place.
It isn’t telling people
that they cannot pay their respects.
You must not care how heartsick
that little girl was,
and is to this day,
that she was denied her right
to let him go in her own way.
Why should you care?
You always get your way.
Ten years later,
and I am still angry at you.
I worked for hours
on photo posters.
I chose pictures that meant so much.
I worked until I got blisters.
And you show up
with perfect little foam board posters,
right out of a creative memories scrapbook.
My posters weren’t perfect,
but they deserved
to be showcased by him
as he lay in state.
You just had to take that right away from me, too.
Didn’t you?
It wasn’t your right.
Perhaps you forget
which one of us was his daughter.
Perhaps it doesn’t matter
that while neither of us was blood to him
he had chosen me to be his child.
Not you.
You stripped me of everything
I could use to cleanse my soul.
I needed those things
so I could attone for my sins.
Yet, you took it from me.
Why should you care?
You always get your way.
Ten years later,
and I am still angry at you.
We could have been friends.
We could have been like sisters.
You destroyed any chance of that.
Now you try to get involved
in the way I raise and educate my son.
It isn’t your right,
as it wasn’t then.
I was a good daughter.
Now I am a good mother,
and I have done it all without you.
Yet, you still try to take it all away.
Why should you care?
You always get your way.
Ten years later,
and I will never stop
being angry at you.
