This week, ne, this month has been one of the absolute worst in recent or all memory. And while nothing of any real good has come about yet from all of it and while the wackness is still continuing to smother me, I still want to record some thoughts about it in reflection. I love my family and I have a right to love my family, and anyone who has a problem with any one of them can shut the hell up and leave the room. To have gone through what we've seen and experienced would drive any typical, ordinary family to complete disaster. We've just had our disasters, stress the plurality, and amazingly enough it didn't come from my family falling apart. I'm frankly astonished at how well-strung each member of my family is.

I wish I could say just one thing to the person who hurt my sister, and that thing would be said with a metal bat. And a nice long drive to some deserted area, where he would have no readily-available access to medical treatment. To do what you did and do is disgusting, and I hope your body explodes into white flames while you dream about hurting women, or anyone. I wish I could tell every one of the people who loves my sister what you did just to get them all to trample you, because you have really betrayed what she expected of you, you betrayed what my family wanted for her. I hope your own sister finds out about who you are, you sick ass. (I no longer have any anger for you because all that's left there is contempt and pity. For being as old as you are, you should know better.)
  
But if there's anything I have for myself, it's probably pity too. In times of sadness, loneliness, harshness and depravity, I've wished for some sad or perhaps bad things on myself. Most of it to get a rise out of myself, to see some reaction to what I think the edge might look like. And, now, with this month having gone by, I only feel sad that someone may have been listening. The end was close for some of the dearest people to my heart, and still upon hearing their news, my thoughts immediately returned to myself - about what I may have conjured up and asked for. Not asked for them, of course, but asked in general, and that's asking a lot. Too much. I can't imagine what an overturned car looks like, or feels like, from the inside of it. And I don't ever want to imagine what five little children sound like in an overturned car, when their mom is unable to tend to their cries and pain. All is better now, I hope they don't retain those memories.

I hope you do, though. You, you, my other younger half. You frighten me because you are nothing like me even though I want the same things for you. That's not how it works and I know that, and I know punishments go with crimes. I don't like it, but that's it works, and I know that. It makes me sad and happy that you are where you are, because I think you need to be shocked about your own life, where it may have been treading, where it might be going. But now I think you'll have a harder time cleaning yourself up because now you'll have more to explain, rather than just having yourself to explain, and that's already a lot. You don't make the world any easier for yourself, but you should know it wasn't wasy to begin with. I'm sure you'll figure that out where you are, but I hope it doesn't come with resentment and anger towards the rest of your family that loves you.

The rest of the family loves you, too, and I'm sorry you have to go through all of this, have had to go through everything you've gone through. You're the most powerful figure in my life, and the deepest fibers in your body run through mine, and I'm glad that they do. I wish I could tell you how much I recognize you for, you are limitless in your achievements as a mother, and as a person. There's a story that I run through my head whenever I get the inkling that you don't feel loved and feel taken for granted. Dad and Mark and I are in the car in front of the clinic, and you've gotten out for your appointment. You look back, the weather was mucky and odd, so you probably couldn't see into the car that well, too much glare. The look on your eyes was of fear and sadness, this was when you were having to get the preliminary tests for your surgeries. I could tell you saw Dad and Mark who were in the front, but they didn't notice you'd turned around, they were laughing or fighting or talking or yelling. We were backing out, you were still moving slowly ahead, neck turned. But I saw your face and I watched your eyes, and I held onto them and hoped you saw me looking at you. I don't think you did. We left after that. But I've always been trying to be with you, and hold my eyes to yours. I'll bet Mark and Jennier have stories just like this one, Mom.

You will never ever see me apologize for my family again. They are absolute to me, an absolute good. They can do wrong like anyone can do wrong, but they are good.