Packet of Wildflower Seeds

Awhile back I shared a poem I wrote about the experience of partner abuse. At the time I wrote the poem, I had a newborn, and I imagined that a woman might choose to stay in an abusive relationship because she felt she had no way to provide for her child otherwise. My child is now older, and as she has grown up, I have imagined how abuse might seep from a spouse to a child. Would the mother continue to stay in the relationship if she thought she had no other options? Would she see her children hurt and decide it was finally time to leave? How would she protect her children? Could  she protect her children? I wrote this poem to sort through my thoughts and feelings about the topic. As with the last poem, I drew from several sources. I digested news stories and imagined what I'd do in similar situations. I cried after hearing what friends have endured. Yes, I've been hurt, too - with words only and certainly not to the extent depicted here. As I sat with the pain, I wondered

If you have read even a fraction of my blog posts, you know that mental health is an important topic to me. That probably makes sense due to my own personal struggles. I also worry how my illness will affect my children. Does it impact how I respond as a parent? Is it something they will inherit from me? I have additional reasons to be concerned about the latter. I alluded to my husband's family history in a previous post, but I feel ready to share more fully his story (with his permission). My husband's father suffered (and, if we are being honest, died) from schizophrenia. I didn't know this when we first started dating. I didn't even know that his father was deceased. At the beginning of our relationship, someone mentioned to me that they thought his father was no longer living and asked if it was true. I had no idea, so I asked one of my husband's best friends about it. The friend actually believe his father was still alive. However, shortly after we began d