First Born

Shane was ever an enigma to me. From his birth, I couldn't understand him. Not him, personally, but I was a single mother forced to deal with this tiny person. This tiny person who constantly cried, from his birth, until he was two years old. I was dumbfounded on how to deal with him. Thank God for my mother, but by the same token, she was no help at all. She spoiled him beyond understanding. But I hold no anger in my heart for this. This was the Caribbean way. Grandma to the rescue! It's a very difficult thing to discuss, this tendency of ours. I don't think I'm able, still, at this advanced age, to touch on the myriad of feelings that lay dormant, yet awakened in my soul. I loved my mother, to all and every extreme. Yet, I have ambivalent feelings about the raising of my firstborn son. I can't delve into those feelings, for I'm still trying to deal with how I feel about them. My mistakes and errors and faults were many, too many to count, and I am still ...