i wish

I wish a lot of things were different. Like I wish we weren't poor like we are. Then we wouldn't have to live in such a cruddy neighborhood. Then again, there's something about the noise that my mother needs. It's like she can't bear the silence. Like noiselessness will suffocate her. I wish I knew how come.

I wish I knew why my mother and her brother won't speak to each other. A few years ago he came over for Christmas dinner. Once the firewater got in their systems, they started fussing and cussing. He told her that she saw what was happening and he knew that she saw it. She maintained that she hadn't seen shit, and if he insisted on telling her what she saw, he was welcome to get the hell out and never come back. That's what he did, and now she has no family besides us. And we're not enough.

I wish I could be enough. I wish I could pull my mother into my arms and coax her story out of her. I wish I could make her talk to me about her past. Her pain. I wish I could make her show me the affection I crave. I wish I could hear her say, “I love you.” I wish I could tell her that I love her without being pushed away. I wish I could be enough.