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Always Wanted To Wear Your Shoes

o sister o sister

my beautiful and powerful big sister;

i wish i knew you like i once did

o sister o sister

my wise and worldly big sister;

i wish i knew the remedy for what has rent itself between us

a thousand hateful things i've said to you;

wish i knew how to soften those words

I don't know what you mean by formal, not sure how to be formal

I miss you

and dare I say you were right in many ways

are there amends for my intolerance of your menopause

which is when know that things began to really fall apart

and now, as i swallow black cohosh capsules

and find myself yet again in a back against the wall situation;

i'm wishing i'd ever learned to do things like you

learned to make the best of things,

find and develop my own creative spark

& now there is no you to run to

and i've yet again made choices without a backup plan.

this seems to have become the pattern of my life

never really finishing anything

testing the waters here and there

often trying to live up to you

there were times when i wished u were my mother

and even felt u were

and now as tears begin to well

i can't help wanting to reverse the clock

though I'm I'd just react the same way

so many little moments come flooding in

I sat,8ish months pregnant, at my midwife visit

staring at words on a memo she'd held in her hand

sister called, requests that we urge mother to consider adoption,

doesn't think she can handle motherhood

or is ready for mother hood

I don't remember the exact words.

I numbly said no, I didn't want adoption info

feeling very sad

feeling somehow rejected

and so it seems I couldn't handle motherhood

one of those midwives asked me, later, on my 6 week visit

'Are you starting to adjust to motherhood? '

What?

F*** no! I don't know what that means.

but i said neither, wanly exhaustedly said, yes.

no further questions.

And 12 years later, I've still not adjusted

and that doesn't mean I am not madly in love with my son.

But I know you know that

sister.

My heart feels so lost and yet there are moments

when I feel more powerful than I ever have.

I still keep feeling like I'm struggling to live up to you

still see your face when someone speaks of heroes

though I despise the word – and perhaps i've lived the reason why

I see other faces but yours the brightest

if not of late only because of my bitter anger

my self torturing sense of betrayal

just my feelings - not necessarily truth

Im sorry that I always wanted to be you

so much maybe that I even wanted to stamp you out.

©December 2008

poem by Pilar Mogollon
Added by Poetry Lover
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