Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Poetic Injustice: The Poem That Changed My Life

       I can’t tell you when it was I came to the realization that I was a Middle Child, but I can tell you exactly where it was: right in the kitchen of the house I grew up in. That is where my mother taped this poem to a wall. It stayed taped there for over 30 years. They don’t make Scotch Tape like that anymore. I always found it ironic, because I’m pretty sure my mother stuck it there to make me feel better about being a Middle Child, but until I saw that poem, I never really even thought of myself as one, or that it was something I might feel badly about. I certainly didn’t think there was anything poem-worthy about it. So why all the fuss? Why the poem? What was it about being a Middle Child that made us so "special" we even came with our own syndrome?
      There weren’t any “First Born Son” or “Baby Girl” poems taped to the wall, and that was weird. There was no doubt my brother was my father’s favorite child. My sister, “Daddy’s  Girl,” was a close second. I had a lock on the Bronze medal, a distant third -- but it wasn’t so clear cut with my mother. While it was obvious my sister was her favorite, I thought maybe, just maybe, I might have an outside chance of eking out a second place finish with her.