I felt it necessary this morning to reblog this post. The memory is as clear today, as it was then. It pointed out to me, that we can overcome our parents and some of the horrors we had to overcome in our own lives in growing into maturity as a person. Lord, thank you for this day and knowing love from others this day.
I recalled this memory.
I was five or six
it was the middle of morning
when I hear my Mother moaning
in the lowest of voices
as to not wake my Brother or me.
“Please John, don’t hit me again.”
“Please don’t hurt me.”
Please….Please, you are hurting me.”
It has been sixty-five years
since that memory.
Still every once in a while
that memory returns
to haunt my very soul.
My Father came in late that night.
He had been drinking.
Texas Poetry 
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