Understanding

Forty years too late I begin to understand
What perhaps drove you out the door.
Even more, I get what tugged you back,
It is hard to leave, even when you need to.
Four years old, all I could see was chaos,
And a dim realization you were gone.
Watching you climb in a car,
Not getting it was supposed to be forever.
Homecoming was less dramatic,
You were just there, in your misery.
I now know you were living a half life,
Bounded by children and the right thing to do.
It is apparent to me, the outrageous things,
They were driven by misery and mental illness.
The door finally closed behind you for the last time
Nine years later, which wasn't any easier.
That time I got it, and completely understood
The leaving was forever, and that was that.
It was harder that time, to know for sure,
And I fought it the best I could.
The known, even as messed up as it was,
Was so much easier to cope with than the unknown.
But, now, I understand, and look at it all
In a different light.
It isn't all about me anymore, I can empathize
With the different currents pulling you around,
And begin, finally, to understand.