Another Day

by Jan Ripples

The beautiful kaleidoscope of water colored dreams shatters, pierced by the never ending screams.

Brown eyes' innocence belie the hidden rage and hatred.

The little girl whose arrival we considered a gift from God, unexpected in our golden years.

Remember concerts in the park, she danced with daddy who was so proud of his little princess.

When did it start to crack; the rose colored glass through which we viewed our family?

Was it in the house that was to be our forever home, a wonderful place to raise children?

I watched her sitting on the front steps, alone, watching the neighborhood children playing down the street.

The angry mother's call, after their first and only play date, "I have no room in my home for a child who steals."

Private school, we thought will give her the structure she needs and allow her to meet new children whose parents did not know.

When did the screaming begin?

How could I have allowed our lives to change so dramatically.

I scream back, hurling rage of my own, then hide behind the draperies wondering who heard.

I must compete with the one who left her so long ago.

Although I pray for that other mother, sometimes I hate her.

Sometimes I watch my child as she sleeps, the tiny nose peeking from beneath the soft pink blanket.

I love her so, how can I forget her sweetness as morning's arguing begins.

American Girl dolls with canopy beds, expensive clothing thrown on the floor of her closet. How could I have thought it would be different.

How can I love someone who hates me, who watches for a moment of my vulnerability?

Empty promises, little notes, "I'm sorry Mommy, I promise never to do it again."

I lie awake each night asking God to give me patience, love and compassion.

Then it all begins again; another day identical to its predecessor.