Another Day

What a day! None of my visits to lower east side to see grandma has ever been without drama. Seems my other brother Francis went bersirk on grandma and Ma. I dont call her mom because the women who raised me and worked her hardest for me has earned that title. Most of the time i call my biological mother Mary. Besides the fact that she is a crack user, and has a alternate personality. She has a good heart somewhere in that scrouny chest of hers.So besides that my brother blamed my grandma for christophers death,our younger brother.he cursed them and went to hit Mary but grandma got in the way. They filed a order protection on him, and we dont know where he went.But he left a message on grandmas phone that he knows the devil is coming for him and he doesnt want anyone crying over his coffin the way we did christopher. It bothers me that even through these difficult times he can not humble himself. We are all still grieving, even if we dont walk around crying. Sometimes i dont understand him and trying is becoming frustrating he is like a gemini, a person of two faces. He just got out of jail is he looking to go back in again. who knows. only him.

No, this is nothing out of the ordinary seems like for generations there has been a curse of some sort placed upon my family. The many stories i have. Mary turned into drugs when she was young and never broke the habit because she could not look over being raped by her uncle at 12.  Being abused at a young age is very difficult to get over because it will always live with you. i know because i was molested several years when i was young. But i forgave him, why? that question i can never answer without pause. the fact he was my grandfather maybe had something to do with it, becaus ei could never escape him, he was after all part of the family. My rebellious years came soon after. i forgave him, and i cant give you an answer why, maybe because i wanted peace in my heart and wanted nothing more than to move past it. Something my mother could not. She hates her abuser to this day. My brothers were abused, my sister, my dad, my uncle. Wonder how are minds are like there is a war in my head everyday but my heart takes alot of the blows because there is love even for those who have done evil and do not deserve it. Somethimes i wish i were coldhearted and selfish, because i would not feel hurt as often as i do. 

There are many stories i have and i want to start with my brothers story first since he has left us. It makes me feel better to talk of him because i love him dearly and im not ready to let him go.....