Inheritance  by Janell R. Ward

A Brand Built on Faithfulness 

You can determine daily
          who your parents,
          your brothers,
          your sisters are.

They are the ones who
manifest a defensive hedge through every lovely deed,
show up at your workplace with Persian tulips.

They ditch
         their roles,
         their goals,
         their shopping lists

to bring you soup on a frail Saturday morning.

This is family—

An invisible bloodline of reliability,
a cluster of red and white blood cells
made from mercy and conviction.

They are a sterling salvation—

Arriving on time,
remembering that you hate cinnamon,
driving hours to watch your children when obligation calls.

They will engage with you forever,
purchase your misfortunes,
and bear them with you,
catching your sloppy sobs on their
               white,
Antony Morato dress shirt.

They will perpetually advertise a welcome home sign:
You are always wanted here.

They pump peace through your body,
Releasing the relief of knowing

you        can         count          on                      

                 someone.

They are the attentive ones,
The ones that make you want to live again tomorrow.





Part II. The Confrontation


You were supposed to be the one to love me fully,
Passionately,
Without reason or cause,
Adoring me just for the sake of
Being blood.
You were supposed to be the one who would want to
Do anything
To make sure that we could remain close.
You should have been the one who
Showed up on time,
Cried with me in life and death,
The one who
took care of my children when I couldn't.
But you wouldn't do it.

And now I'm left to decide
that you cannot come any closer.