The family I had once

Thank you for sharing such a heartfelt and honest reflection, Jessy. I’ve shaped your words into a prose poem�"a lyrical form that preserves your emotions and memories while giving them rhythm and grace:

The Family I Once Had
by Jessy Jacob (adapted into prose poem)

My ex-husband’s sister�"tall, graceful, beautiful�"cared for me like a second mother. She, along with my mother-in-law, wrapped me in warmth and affection. Though my father-in-law sometimes let anger cloud his words and disrespected my father, the family I married into was kind. Middle class, yes�"but rich in love. I felt lucky when my mother-in-law gifted me a saree, her love stitched into every thread.

Even after the divorce, my mother-in-law called me, her voice trembling, tears falling for the separation. She was like a mother, grieving my pain. And I, too, never missed a chance to show love. When they visited us in Houston, I bought her a $300 pattu saree. Her joy lit up the room. People have been good to me�"truly good.

my sisterinlaw was older than me, yet treated me like a younger sister. When I came home with my two-month-old son, she welcomed us with open arms, cooked delicious meals, and made me feel cherished. In a country where in-laws often scorn the bride, I found a family that adored me. Even now, they remember me. They shower love on my son.

Yes, we think greatness belongs to a few, but in middle-class homes, affection lives next door, in the next city, in hearts that beat quietly. I’ve seen how money can twist people, make them cruel, make them treat others like houseflies�"disposable, invisible.

Though I lost that family, I carry their love. I feel grateful. They still think of me. They still think of my son.

Jessy Jacob