Before

I'm from the sham of middle class white suburbia,

where we pretended everything is okay,

is just part of the lifestyle

From my mother “protecting us kids” from the evil that lurked inside our five bedroom four bath,

a childhood spent blissfully ignorant,

enjoying the luxuries Vice President of Marketing’s salary can buy.

spent swimming at the country club while my parents golfed,

spent driving around town in my father’s Lexus,

spent relaxing at our condo in Arizona.

like a windshield defrosting, the reality of my family focused

the innocence of childhood stolen,

piece by piece.

During

My mother cleans wine stains off the hardwood every morning,

my father goes on “business trips” for a month or two.

My mother has hushed conversations when my father is not around,

my father blows into a little box to start his car.

My mother always smells and tastes my father’s drinks,

my father “quitting his job” to “find a better opportunity.”

The reality was seen by everyone.

The last screaming match happened on Switchgrass court

My father filled his suitcases with his clothes and left.

The money had ran out

The neighbors knew about the facade

The sham was ruined.

I was no longer from the land of stay at home moms and golf outings,

I was from in a ranch style built in the 60s

full of creaky floors and wood paneling

forced Sunday morning breakfasts with my father,

my mother working twenty-four seven to support us,

a summer spent at home watching Netflix.

No more country club.

No more new school clothes.

No more spring break vacations.

I was from honesty now,

forced to wear my story like a badge of honor

embracing life without status.

Yet as soon as I thought I was okay, the world shattered once again.

After

I was now from tragedy, a parent gone too soon.

From the pity of those that know your story,

From losing the opportunity to repair a strained and complicated relationship,

From meetings about wills, and life insurance, and social security.

Being asked to say kind words,

With nothing coming to my head

no pleasant memories to share

From trying to figure out who I am

While grieving the loss of a parent

Complicating adolescence even further

I was from a place everyone around me is from

Now, I am different

My sham of middle class white suburbia,

gone.