Benevolent and Angry

Am I too much? Or not quite enough? Is there anywhere I belong, besides on my own two feet?  No one is going to save me.  So I’ll have to do it myself.  It’s ok, I don’t mind, when you do it yourself you need only to nod in the direction of your own strength.  No need to wonder if it’s too much to ask, or if you actually need it, let alone deserve it. 

Here is what I know.  My mother is dying.  And I cannot be there for her in any way that feels right or true or even comfortable.  I am haunted by the desire to be “good”.  Wise.  Benevolent.  But I am also angry.  I knew I was never going to get from them what I needed, so I kept them out of sight, out of mind.  Now here they are, very much in sight and mind. 

I am angry that they dare to need me, when they left so many of my own needs unmet, so much of the time.  So we play this game of chicken.  They won’t ask for anything, but will be hurt when they feel I have not given enough.  I will give them what I have to give, over what they feel they deserve.  I never got what I deserved.  Life isn’t fair, after all. 

Am I too much? Not enough? I can be both benevolent AND angry.  I am.  But I will go and sit in the periphery.  I will bring cookies and offer my brand of dark humor when it fits.  And they will draw from the quiet strength of my energy, and I will be drained. It will be as it always has been.  I will be benevolent. And  I will be angry.