She Sits Alone.

They clung to one another as one clings to a bit of debris in a storm-tossed sunken ship.

That went down into the dark, cold abyss.

They clung to one another as a child clings to a stuffed toy or a security blanket.

Each drawing from the other what they didn’t get from their alcoholic or absent parent.

Two abandoned, wounded children united in unholy matrimony.

A union of tension, unspoken words of grief buried too deep even to acknowledge…

Skeleton closet material, for sure.

Abuses of all sorts…haunting the next generation…until someone stood up and said,

“NO!!!”

They clung to each other through the sibling rivalry that was more hidden abuses.

They clung to each other through the teenage rebellion years.

Through drug addiction and yet another generation of alcoholism.

They clung to each other through teen pregnancies.

Through the deaths of children and grandchildren from drug overdoes.

They clung to each other through old age..til one passed, leaving the other to sit alone.

With the memories of all the abuses never talked about.

She sits alone…with all the memories.

She sits alone, still in denial of how bad it was.

She sits alone, a wrinkled old woman, with her made-up god and her made-up stories.

She sits alone and wonders where she went wrong.

She sits alone, waiting for her turn to meet her maker.

She sits alone and wonders what could have been.

If only she, herself, was the one who said, “NO!!!!!”