There was a challenge on a writing site to write about six different words and then post the daily writings on Instagram.
I don’t use Instagram like that.
I do post there; but it is usually pictures of my cats or flowers or assorted things around the house.
The word I have chosen to write about, after a lot of thinking… is Middle.
She was the middle child.
Second born girl out of three.
I had an older sister, and then a middle sister and I was the youngest.
She was by nature a lost child.
A bit rebellious and maybe in today’s term, troubled.
She as also funny, and caring and confusing.
In today’s world of children she would be attention deficit or a slower learner.
I am glad she wasn’t labeled. She had enough issues to deal with; a ‘label’ would just make them worse.
School was never easy for her and she had no interest in academics.
Junior high and high school was just nothing, not important and she didn’t care.
She didn’t graduate or finish high school. She ran to the streets instead.
They became her family.
Drugs became a friend and an enemy and how she survived them is miracle.
I would see her a few times a year, usually around Christmas and she would stay till her birthday, a few months later.
We were close and when she was gone, she would would often call me, and then I would have to tell our mother her news.
It wasn’t easy for me to be ‘in the middle’… I got the responses after being the bearer of bad news.
It was hard to be the one telling.
I missed her often and so many days and nights; I would look out my window and wonder.
If she was dead or alive.
She was living the words spoken to her. No one expected anything from her and she did not disappoint that expectation.
She actually didn’t have a huge chance at becoming more, it just wasn’t in her ability.
I actually don’t know if given the chance; if she would have proved herself able and praiseworthy.
I do remember she was good at math, and it was amazing to watch her figure it all out.
She was smart on some levels, and simple on many others.
She was funny and pretty and caring, she had thick dark hair and I was very jealous.
She went through many difficult and hard moments in her life and survived them too.
She eventually met a man who loved her deeply and accepted her daughters as his own.
She fell back into the alcoholic life as she aged; and one more time we rescued her again.
Over coming her ‘inner self’ was too hard. We did what we could to protect her, but it wasn’t enough.
She passed away a few years ago.
She was the middle child; the second born of three daughters.
There was a challenge on a writing site about six different words; and I chose the word – middle.