APRIL 7: Eleanor Gang
I am from hugs and spankings,
harsh words and lullabies.
My parents played good cop and bad cop
and I was never sure at any moment which was which.
I am from insults veiled as clever remarks,
always a joke, but always hurtful.
I was bullied in the schoolyard, taunted in the classroom.
I learned there was strength in numbers,
protection in a crowd; even if they were not really friends.
I come from cheerleading routines,
orchestra and choir practice,
premarital sex and a broken engagement.
All the things I did to distance myself from my parents
and now that they’re gone,
what I would do to have them back again.
They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
I never wanted to be that apple. Every time I think I am,
I pull back, remember where I’m from, veer off in a different direction.
Even if we can go home again,
sometimes we shouldn’t.

Eleanor Gang is presently living in a state of controlled rage. She tries not to lose her cool by writing, knitting and drinking copious amounts of tea. The occasional bubble bath helps, too.