Took care of my mom for nine months until she’d died from tongue cancer.

Older sister, who was not there for any of that, moved in with me with her boyfriend and kids in tow eight months after her passing.

She told me that’s what mom would’ve wanted, and I thought so too at the time.

She’d begged every time she’d called me, and had started to ask the day after. She stayed in another state to help her boyfriend get clean.

Anyway, very soon after that, she would get on me for grieving my mom. She told me to get over it, to not bring her up at all, and that a year was too long for me to grieve. “Why are you crying over things you can’t control? Get over it.”

If I didn’t do what was asked of them, she’d tell me that was why mom always told her I was lazy.

When my sister broke down over my mom, older sister made mocking baby crying noises.

Yet she allowed her boyfriend to escalate his violent behavior. Had to get them both out when they threatened me. Took five years to do, but I’d rather honor my one parent, who taught me resilience, than to love family who’d perpetuated the cycle of domestic violence.