My father’s father survived a war torn land as a child but could not survive the war that raged within him.
My father’s mother carried the weight of a broken generation on frail shoulders and fed it with pockets full of imitation love.
My father perpetually relived the death of his dreams till Death finally came for him.
My maternal grandfather built the Interstate of Integrity through the Badlands of prejudicial injustice.
My mother’s mother was born to please Earth with her scent – like Night Blooming Jasmine – only to be gone by morning.
My mother lived her life for others except for a momentary lapse that left her a lone wolf without a pack.
I live as a ghost in a life of lies built on the expectations of others.
[Another contribution by JW: art and words.]
[For those who may be curious, Kat is doing much better, but is still dealing with some issues. But I’ve got months of medical issues still ahead in the near future. So we are grateful to JW for all he’s done and continues to do for us here.]