Who Loves You? *A Poem*

She lay in a bed with less words said than most
she was the host of this frantic gathering
I stood slathering
as much lotion as I could on my thin cracked hands
that could not withstand
the hospital hand disinfectant
in each doorway
were a sign that would say
to be sure to disinfect your hands
to remove
germs
and I learned to perform the routine
obediently
each time I came to see
my mother.
This particular day
my sister and I
arrived about the same time
to hear the doctor inform us
of her condition
We listened.
Each night, my sister and I
would try to find a way
to make each day easier for our mother
while my brother
remained distant and frantic
She had surgery.
She came home.
My sister and I alone paid her bills.
resentment cast a chill against my heart
toward my brother
second born to my mother
and first removed from coming to her aid
he strayed further and further from my good grace
as he made boisterus promises that he would replace
with inaction.
In what has become standard fashion
my sister and I
continue to take care of our mother
while my brother takes care
of his family affairs
and schedules the next panic
whenever he next hears of the next
crisis
and my mother
will continue to defend
her son to no end
while her daughters plot and plan
to meet her lifes demands
some things in life I will never understand
but will always shun
like the thought of raising your daughters
and loving your sons.