Invisible

I wasn’t a cute baby

so I was invisible.

Grandparents, aunts and uncles fawned

over the curls and dimpled smiles of the other

but I, not so cute, was invisible.

I wasn’t a difficult toddler

so I was invisible.

Parents fussed and worried

over the tantrums and fits of the other

but I, not so difficult, stayed invisible.

I wasn’t a loud child

so I was invisible.

Teachers complained but tended to

the noise and outbursts of the others

but I, not so loud, remained invisible.

I wasn’t a troubled teen

so I was invisible,

watching from the sidelines as the other was nagged, raged at, worried over,

smugly content that I wasn’t. And yet ...

still invisible.

I stood on the precipice of adulthood and considered

submerging into the world of academics forever

feeding my desire to discuss, debate, be heard ... be seen

fighting a growing realization that otherwise,

I might always be invisible.

But I collected my diploma and left,

entered the world, found a job

married, had kids, built a home, tended a garden

sometimes feeling invisible ...

but usually too busy to care.

As time passed,

I wasn’t a high-maintenance wife,

nor a controlling mother,

nor an interfering in-law,

nor a demanding grandmother...

But as I gaze on the faces of loved ones

gathered to tender sweet goodbyes before I leave this realm

it comforts me to realize that somewhere along the way

I had ceased to be invisible.