When sissy got sick, it was all her fault. Choking down pills. Being with the ""bad" crowd. Maybe just maybe if she didn't take that cigarette from that boy's fingers, just maybe I could ask for help.
When my kid brother wanted to run, but instead he got a weird lady coming to our house, to talk about his "feelings". Maybe just maybe, I could talk about mine.
So when mommy cried, and said sissy had took too many pills, maybe I could be next to her bed. Holding her hand, telling her that life will get better. And telling her I will be there for her.
Instead of my grandfather poking me and saying "Honey get used to the hospital, all the doctors. 'cuz honey your next."
When I turned to look at him, instead of screaming in his face, " I am already past my breaking point! Stop looking at me thinking I'm going to NEXT!. I can be the first or last of anything I choose!" I looked at him and whispered.
"ponka this is not a game, no one is winning or losing."
Being Next, First and Last