The Bond

For a moment, I thought that we were sisters. I always see you at family functions. We share the same skin. Your voice, your eyes are the same as mine. Your shoulders are broad and sturdy. Just like our mother's, our hips widened from childbirth. Some of them conceived by many men. The rest, by God alone, though time has made it impossible for me to know which is which. No matter. I love them each. Just as Mother taught me. I thought you were taught the same... to love the bastards as the baptized, for they are all of you and are only separated by one day and the devil. But, you can't be my sister. Because you can name all of the fathers of your children. I heard you do so by the fire last night. You called each one by their father's name, saying, "Each of you, go where your father is. Play no more with each other." My eyes welted up with tears as I watched each child pull away from the rest, and go, without question, go with their fathers. Nor did one care to ask what will become of the others. As much as it pains me, I know that it is true. We are not sisters. My mother never knew you.