Memory is what drove me.

It used to make me so angry.

And that gave me the strength

To conquer whatever I dreamed of doing.

One day, I decided

That being angry no longer suited me

Because it also came with a lot

Of unresolved pain

And anger towards my mother

Who did her best to raise me

Given everything she was faced with.

All the challenges

I didn’t know

Because she was walking a path

Nobody in my immediate family

Understood. Very few did,

As service members.

So the one I grew up around

Fed me stories about her,

Taught me to think poorly

Of her, none of which she deserved

Because she was living

For the first time

Just like me.

So when I learned the truth,

I couldn’t trust

The burden of my memory

Or the burden of my soul—

She just wanted a daughter.

I just wanted a mom,

And memory took that away from me.

I wish I had known.

I wish I had been less angry.

I wish I had the truth

And more time.

And without that anger,

I don’t know who I am

Or what drives me.

I don’t know what rock

To push in my wakeness

Now.

What burden to carry,

When I can’t remember

My why.