This must be how my Grandmother's felt when they had to be at home with the kids that their husbands helped to create.
That lonely and desperate feeling and god damn tired from being everything for everyone feeling. This must be how my Grandmother's must have felt.
This must be how my Mother felt when she was the one to answer all problems and be the one to make sure dinner was on the table and all mouths were fed and ready for bed.
Emotional responsibility taking it's peak with each developmental stage and adolescent pain.
This must be how she felt when she was at her day's end and there was still more to do and not enough time or love in the world to give it her all because she has been giving everything since the day she wed into this domesticated life.
Is this how she felt when he left to the bar after his work day was done or how about when he kept to himself in front of the T.V., not to be bothered by anyone or anything.
Is this how she felt when he took no emotional responsibility for the raising of his children that carry half of his genes?
What's for dinner? You haven't made it yet?
I wonder if this is how my Grandmother's felt when I was left alone in the hospital all day, 1 day after giving birth because the Father had to go and make money to pay rent.
Or was it be with his friends, get stoned and drink beer all day because he never could make it at the end of the month anyway.
I wonder if this is how the women in my family who came before me felt when I was home alone all day with my stomach stitched closed with a crying hungry baby sucking on my nipple that was cracked and bleeding; never mind the 3 hours of sleep I barely managed to sneak in. Where was my rock? The one to lean on, the one to cry with and share this life-changing miracle with?