Myself, and my three siblings were raised by my father. My mother got sick when I was almost four and though she fought hard to come back to us (during her two plus years of extensive rehabilitation) sadly, it was not meant to be. I remember reading in her medical records that she got very angry when told that my oldest sister had said she didn't need to rush home, and not to worry, that she had managed to teach us how to make our own beds. I remember holding that old file in my hands. My mother's frustration was palatable.
And so the irony of my middle sister succumbing to the clutches of alcoholism and "checking out," on all of us, but especially her own daughter, is not lost on me.
Familial patterns are hard to break, and ones that involve thirty plus years of addiction are even harder.
Yet, again this statistic means nothing to a child.
That last line...Thank you for sharing this very vulnerable post. Sending peace.
ReplyDeleteYour post reveals little bits of information until the entire picture becomes clear through the experience with your middle sister. The picture at the top is a perfect fit for the way you let us into your world and stamp the pattern with that final line. It makes me think of you as both the child and the adult. Thanks for sharing!
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