Mother and Father

I remember sitting in the back of his red Nissan Sentra. I should have been in my car seat,But when someone’s blood alcohol contentCauses them to forget where they live,Concerns like that, usually slip their mind.  A helpless child and an alcoholic father,My brother only a few years older in the passenger seat,Immaturely gave him directions to our house.Too young to ask for help,Too young to take the wheel.  Endured for years, miraculously,We made it to adulthood.  The last time I saw him, he sluggishly got into his car.I guess he had a spare key,Knowing there was no way he couldFind where I hid his.  A call from prison told me,“As my daughter, you should not have let me get in that car.”A call from my heart told me,“This isn't love.” Since I was youngMy mother's words bounced back and forth Through my head. She told me, whenever things got bad,“Never marry a man like your father.” I knew she must love him,Or perhaps it was her love for usThat she always bailed him out when he got in trouble. Perhaps it was for us that she stayed With him through all the years of chaos.  It had to be for us. It had to be, Because he did not love her, or us, enough to stop. It was for us that she believed A home with a father and a motherWas ideal for the perfect family.  She loved us enough to sacrifice herself. All these years she carried a burden with herFor the sake of her children. Our happiness was spent at the price of her own. She always put us before herself and in the end,It killed her.  This love, the kind that burn so deeply, sparks a flame within the heart of others. It was through her example that I learned to love. It was through his example that I learned how to forgive.  Love is not expected. Love is not obligatory. Love is selfless, understanding, and giving. The difference between love and an artificial version of itIs the difference that will change the world.  

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