A Family Divided

“Your sister told me she didn’t want me in the hospital room after she had her baby,” My mother said as we sat eating our fried catfish platters over at Rodger’s Barbeque this afternoon. “She said she couldn’t take me being in the room after all that.”

A tear erupted and rolled down her cheek.

“You don’t have control over other people and their emotions and feelings,” I said trying to make her feel better. “You only have control over you.”

“I don’t know why your brother and sister hate me so,” She replied. “I couldn’t help I was born with a mental illness.”

“I know,” I said as I reached out to hold her hand. “Life can be totally unfair sometimes.”

“You don’t treat me different.”

“I understand,” I replied. “Remember? I have walked a few days in your shoes so to speak.”

We quietly finished eating our catfish platters and got up to leave. My mother’s hands were shaking violently she was so shaken up by what had occurred the previous day. I don’t understand my brother and sister’s rancor and animosity towards my mother. She couldn’t help being born with a disability. You would think that them both being physicians they would show some more understanding over such matters. Nope, they continue to ostracize my mother and treat her totally different than from my father. It saddens me and makes me feel helpless as they treat me the same. Unlike my mother, I don’t let it get to me though. I am totally blasé about the whole affair and their feelings towards me. I don’t much like them as persons for the way they treat my disabled mother. Shame on them.