How different is your everyday life?

Well for me I think… it's all mostly

static. So much so, that the same conversations will recur frequently.

As true as that is, my family's favorite pastime seems to be reminiscing and acting

like it's all happening for the first time. This is especially true with my Mom and I.
We talk a lot about money, the future, and what she wants for me. It slightly

shifted now that I got bills coming my way.

"Always have your own money,"

"Yeah, I know"

"You don't want to let anyone think you owe them something. Look at where I am;

or even with how your Grandma treats Jimmy. Be more reluctant to accept help

from someone."

"I know, I'll try. But what's the point of struggling if I don't have to?"

"Keep going and you'll see, but just know the consequences of that action."

Jimmy is the only one on my Dad’s side that ‘made it’, he got there cause my

grandma put him through college. Cause of this he’s the family backup or secondary

bank. With that side of my family’s financial situation, my Mom got a lot of worries.

Rightfully so, she was horrified when she found out my Dad been telling me that

he’d need me to support him since I was five or younger. My only annoyance with

regards to how my Mom has this conversation is that she ignores how she also

expects me to support her and help my sister.

Would I have anyway?YES, what she even talking about?

We’ve had this same conversation dozens of times under different circumstances.

All my life, all I saw her as is beaten down and struggling.

I remember feeling the pit when you’re so hungry it feels like your stomach

resorted to eating itself. When I did eat it was once a day at school, or everyother

weekend when I left for my Dad’s. She wasn’t ever eating much either. Grew up on

fastfood, couldn’t do much else at the time. When I was younger it was just me and

her at the house. She’d wake up at four in the morning or earlier, and drop me off

at a daycare before it opened so I could get to school. She drove to another city

everyday for work, she couldn’t come pick me up till near closing hour. She’s had

her moments of course, but not once have I associated the word security with her.

I wish that and more on her, I know where she’s coming from when she tells me this.

More than anything, I’m glad my sister don’t got to go through it on both sides(I hate her

father, for everything he’s done and continues to do). After years of having this

conversation in many different ways, it changed me in some sense.

I see where she is now and where she could have been. She’d say this

everynowandthen

“If I didn't have you I could have been a doctor. If I never met your Dad, I could

have been a millionaire.”

Like Icarus, she wanted more for her life and started going closer and closer to

the sun. Until it melted her wings of wax plummeting to the ocean where the sea.
Her wings soaked up the ocean as if parched and deprived of water, only served to

weigh her down further.

But comparing my Mother to Icarus, depending on the interpretation, it may be

taken as an insult or a word for greed. No, it is only natural as a human to try and

have it all. We constantly run in circles with the way we talk, I'm sure it may be out

of comfort for her. She tried to build her entire life at once. When she was young

she had no choice but to rely on the people around her. It may have helped at the

time, however what about when it's solely with the condition that you have to be at

their beck and call? To spend your life with people saying “it's fine they'll help

cause I did when they needed it.”, that alone may sound valid. But if you’ve paid it

over and over and so and so forth. To be reminded of your inadequacy to help

yourself. How long could you bear the constant reminder?

But as for me, I don't got too many choices. So, what do I do? I take the handout.

The only thing I can really say to her is that I'll do things a little differently. I

don't want to end up like either of my parents. Don't get me wrong, their life ain't

ThE wOrSt in the world, but I want more for myself.

Seeing my Mom, my Icarus, my Momisa get back up after everything she’s endured. If Icarus

didn’t drown, would he have tried to fly again? To this day my Mom does everything
she can to elevate herself. In my ideal world, I’ll never continue this cycle of

repetition. If she could rise again, I hope I could do more and I wish that for my sister too.
If I do end up on a similar path to my Icarus, all I can hope for is that my wings aren't also

made of wax.