Growing Up

Growing up, everyone said that what your family does

Will reflect on what kind of person you will become when you grow up.

After hearing this so many times

It became to trouble me after realizing how my mom’s brothers died

How my grandma died

What my mom was beginning to become

And how my brother was going down the same road as them all

“Addiction isn’t hereditary” they all say

But how do you believe that

When generation after generation

Someone in my family

Became addicted to something

Even after seeing

The harm that it can do.

 

Growing up, I had many friends

With two parents

Who loved them

And cared for them

With siblings

That would accidently hurt you

And rubbed their back until they stopped crying

With Uncles

And Aunts

Who sent them money in the mail

For their birthday

Every year

And Grandmas

Who always made the best cookies

And gave the best presents for every holiday

But I began to realize

That my family

Was not like my friends.

 

 

Growing up, my mom left out information

When she was explaining how my uncles died

“Francis died in a car crash”

He did, but it was also because he was drunk and high

“Your other uncle had a heart attack”

His heart did stop

But it wasn’t because of his cholesterol levels

He just happened to do too many drugs

Than his heart could handle

And I never received

Any birthday cards from my uncles.

 

Growing up, christmas was a holiday of many memories

One year

My grandma flew in

Not to visit

But because my mom made her

So she wouldn’t die alone

My mom believed that

If she was surrounded by family

Then she would want to live

Then she wouldn’t drink an amount

Or smoke an amount

That would make her not wake up in the morning

But during Christmas

She stayed on my couch

And never made cookies

With a bottle of alcohol in her hand

And holes burnt through the fabric of my furniture

When she forgot that her cigarette was lit

And she didn’t wake up the next morning to open presents.

 

Growing up, my mom began to reek of alcohol

I thought that it was normal

Since so many parents drank

But coming home everyday

To my mom crying

Then yelling

Then laughing

Then falling over

Then sleeping

I remembered Christmas

And began to think “why would she drink after seeing what happened to grandma?”

Sooner or later

The smell of alcohol

Turned into the feeling of disgust

And wishing

Wishing I wasn’t home

Wishing I didn’t see my mom put little bottles of jack into her Coke

So that other people at my softball games

Didn’t figure out that she was drinking alcohol

Wishing that I could have friends over

Without them questioning why mom mom was different than their parents

Wishing she wouldn’t lie to me

About why she had to “stay late for work”

Every Monday

But really she was at a meeting

With other people like her

I wished she wouldn’t deny her addiction

I wished she would have loved me

I wished she would have cared

I hoped I would never become her.

 

Growing up. siblings were supposed to protect you

My brother told me one day

“The only time I liked you was when you were a baby because you couldn’t talk”

As he reeked of skunk

But all I wanted to do was talk to him

I wanted to play video games

Wrestle

Fight with him about who gets the front seat

Or about who mom loves more

Then I realized

When he accidentally pushed me

And I began to cry

And he didn’t rub my back

 That It wasn’t a skunk

That had made him smell like that

And I already knew what mom loved more than both of us

And I’m not a baby anymore

But I still don’t talk to him.

 

Now that I am grown,

I don’t want to become addicted

To drugs

To alcohol

I don’t want to have to lie to my children

About how my brother died

About how my mom passed away

Because what your family does

Will reflect on what kind of person you will become when you grow up.

But I don't want to be like everyone else in my family.