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Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado

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Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado, click here to update your pages on AuthorsDen.




     A preteen girl learns to embrace her severely disabled little brother and her mother, who have walked back into her life.

Image of night lightning (c) 2011, by Karla Dorman.

I guess I should have known it was coming to this.

My mother has come back inito my life.  She seemingly "disappeared" when Izaiah Jonathan was born.  She decided that she couldn't cope with a baby born with brain damage, so she packed up her things and then left, leaving Dad (and myself) to raise the baby.

That was six years ago.  

Now Izaiah just turned six and Mother decided that she wanted to be a part of his life, so she appeared on our doorstep last week and we are trying to get used to having her around once more.

I don't know whether to be glad, sad, or mad.

I am glad Mother has returned, but I am also furious at her for abandoning her baby when he needed her the most.  For his first critical "formulative" years, Dad and I played the role of Mom, taking care of his needs, crying or praying over him when he was in the hospital fighting for life, and just basically trying to deal with his disabilities.  When he was two, Izaiah was diagnosed as having "spastic quadriplegic cerebral palsy", meaning his whole body was affected: he would probably never walk or talk, according to his doctors.

Mother was nowhere to be found.

I had to be Dad's "support system" on those days where Izaiah screamed or fussed, or was sick and in the hospital.  I had to miss school because Izaiah needed me, his big sister, to be around.  I suffered terrible marks on my report cards and Dad got tired of having to go to yet another meeting because I (Carli) was "acting out again" or "dreadfully behind on assignments that should have been turned in long ago".

Then Mother reappeared and we are both trying to deal with her ever-changing moods.  One minute, Mother is happy, lucid; the next, she's talking out of her head and acting weird.  I suspect Mother may have bi polar, but I can't really say because I'm not a doctor: I'm just a twelve- going-on-thirteen- year-old kid.

Mother has lost weight: she is a shell of her former self.  I somehow think that she hasn't been eating or taking care of herself.

Dad and I are both extremely worried about her.  

It's bad enough having to worry about a kid who is severely handicapped.  Do we really need the added stress of worrying about Mother, too??

I am trying to love Mother and be there for her, but I really can't deal with her lightning-fast moods.  I wonder if Mother is supposed to be on any medication to help her moods and if she is, she obviously isn't taking them.  Otherwise she wouldn't look like a human skeleton with hair.

In addition, I am trying to embrace Izaiah and help him, but then again, Mother's the one who should be taking care of him, NOT me.  I know Dad helps out when he can, but he works two jobs trying to get the bills paid or food on the table, and Dad is oftentimes past the point of exhaustion.

I just wish my friends or relatives knew what I have been facing these past six years (plus one week); maybe then they would understand my grouchiness and why I really don't want to talk to anybody right now.

~To be continued.~ 

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Reviewed by Paul Berube 8/6/2012
Well told, karen.
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 8/6/2012
Sadness in these lines, Karen ... well done. :(

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.

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