I am going to respond to this as if it is a true story, experienced by the author. I might have just told you that in order to distance myself from this piece, because I, as a mother, have said and done some of those things to my own now grown children, and the piece has floored me.

I am so very sorry for everyone involved in this fiasco. For the mother who could not look within, for the father who would not see, for the doctor who had been taught not to care, and of course for the growing child, who carried all of their burdens and those of her ancestors going back and back.

I am not this mother, even though I have done a few of these things. There was the time my daughter got sick and docile during a difficult time in her life, and once she was well again I said "I liked you better when you were sick". Or the many times I assured one or another of my children that the newest medication would surely help, that we could trust the doctor who ultimately poisoned one of them, crippling that one for life. Enough about me.

I need to take a break from this. It's too much on this day.

Excellent work. Courage and enormous strenth. I am proud of you. You've got this. Burn the poem and leave your parents behind, you do not need them and owe them nothing.

love