Drunk and Wasted Where I Should Be

I try hard as I can to move forward after the second of my parents died April 4, 2011. My Dad and I had a special bond. I understood what he could not say or express. Because I was his blood, his genes, perhaps that is why I perceived him as he truly was. I knew of a handsome man...one my mother could not resist. I knew of a son who was born from the reunited effort of his parents, seven years separated. I knew of a sensitive man, because he told me once, "I am sensitive". I endured unrelenting flagelation from my mother upon him. I endured a woman who cried at night alone in her bed because she was so distraught and left alone....all except that I heard her. The youngest of seven, not spoiled, yet forsaken and enduring.