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My life as a child was over in an instant. When father died I was 10 years old, and was forced to take on full responsibility for the well being of my younger siblings. I was to make up for mothers dysfunction as a mother. (My mother had ADHD but at the time of fathers passing we didn't know that.) In the first few months after father's death, I had help from our grandparents, they'd fix us dinner and take us to school and make sure the Baby was taken care of. (Our grand parents didn't know about mother; how moody she was and that she was forgetful, and that she couldn't handle any stress or changes she fell apart at stress situations.) I promised my father on his death bed that I'd never ever reveal mothers short comings to any one. Our grandparents thought that mother's behavior her moodiness, and forgetfulness were products of grief; temporary symptoms that would fade in time. After all mother was a grieving widow-too hurt in mourning the loss of her husband. She was so much in stress she just couldn't handle the every day chores of running a household or taking care of her children at the moment. Eventually though grandma thought it was time for mother to pick up the pieces and resume her responsibilities. It was nearly four months since father died, when our grandma told mother that she can't come that often any more, but she brought a lot of precooked meals over to make the transition a little easier for mother. That's when I became the keeper of my mother, and the mother to my younger siblings. My care free childhood was over. With my sister Brunhilde's help I managed to keep the family together, and no one ever knew that I, a 10 year old girl was keeping house, raising children, making up for mothers short comings and I still managed to go to school and graduated from high school with my class.

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