A joyous day was upon us, surrounded by loved ones, giggling around a pine tree.
Bristles falling and landing on our bobbled heads as we vigorously tear open the colored boxes.
Potato salad, apple pie, and eggnog still in my mouth
Soon we have to depart

“I will only be gone a few hours”, “I promise you I’m staying with a friend, “Honey I love you”, “You are before anyone else”
Empty words with color filling. The sound of crying, the sound of a lonely home with nothing but sorrow and helplessness. What could I possibly do? The Jezebel of the house was gone.
I wake myself shrieking and crying in the night, I eat what scraps I can find in the kitchen, I think, where is mother?

It’s still a mystery, how could someone leave a child who they gave life to?
How does someone grow with no motherly hand?
It shapes you, matures you, maybe in the best way and the worst.

But there’s always a hole in the one part of your heart that now doesn’t exist.