My Brothers

When I am with my brothers I can't help but feel special. I think other people must notice how I shine. I feel safe in their shadows. They are funnier, smarter, kinder and safer then me. If I can just let go and hold on to what they have- I can survive this ordeal. I try and catch the way their eyes look down, because I want to see what they are so transfixed with at their feet. I cant get my head out of the dark clouds.

What do you want from me? I can only hurt you with my lack of faith. It can only let you down. I see your motherhood and the way it works. backwards. Like clockwork. You were never there when we were little. Your face was always in a prayer book and now it seems you have memorized it all by heart. You have everything you need to slumber through this nightmare- and the rest of us- we have to walk, fully awake, like zombies- through hospital corridors. I know my sentences run on. I have said it before. My lack of intellect sets me apart from my brothers. In scrabble games. In conversations. In hospital waiting rooms. I am always a brother. Its like the sisterhood didn't fit me well and i never tried this on for size. But now it fits. Being with my brothers has always been the safest place for me. One brother came up to me when I was praying the names of the righteous and he asked me, "Are you really going to do that? Do you really think saying names is better then saying psalms?"

Is that a question I look like I could answer? My faith has finally caught up with me and it is too little to make me run. I stand still and look at other peoples faith, marvelling at my own. My mothers looks interesting. Its bullet proof, a blend of blindness and dare I say stupidity. My brothers are classical. The eternal student.
One repeats "this is so difficult" like a mantra.
I have my own catchy phrase, but I was raised to well to repeat it.