July 21, 2016

Draft mom

Upon the passing of my mother,
I set out to find books on greiving the loss of
Someone who had literally given me life
I stumbled across a book denoting daughters who were motherless.
I am not motherless.
My mom may have passed but her words carry on
She may be resting but the lessons she taught me
Play on a loop in the back of my mind
And while no more direct words of wisdom will fall from her lips,
I remember how she behaved ways she reacted to situations
And every time I am faced with adversity I remember her and while
The lessons she taught me were not always spoken and
The moments we shared were not always palpable
She had a way of knowing
Just what you needed, before you needed it.
And while my mother is
Elsewhere, she is stitched into my mind
With the strongest thread she could find.

July 15, 2016

Dear mom

I have been racking my mind each moment
Since you've been gone
Thinking of all the times I didn't burrow into my memory, recalling things that never really happened
Details that are on the phantom tips of my thoughts
I recall things when I don't want to, things that are all too real and intense
Your smell, your laugh, your voice
I catch it all on the whispers in the moments that are passing by much too quickly
Things that seem to have never had a connection to you suddenly carry emotions I've never felt.
I recall only one movie we ever watched together about the girl with down syndrome
And how you and I laughed at Little Randy through our tears for his own
Your compassion for others
Late nights where we bought food to deliver to others
You confiding your stress to me, I wish I would have listened more, ma.
There are not words enough in the world to
Explain how I wish I had been here
I wish I had stayed close to you for as long as I could
And I can only regret the times I was just too busy
Or that I wanted to relax
I should have sat with you, holding you for
As long as I could.
I will never be able to tell you these things
This house is so empty and it no longer feels like home, the eerie silence without the sound of
Your snoring, which I hated as a kid but now I would give anything to hear it again.
Give anything to catch your laughter in the wind
To see you in a drea, or when I close my eyes
To continue as if you are not gone,
And to know exactly what to say and do as you did. There is no way to end this thing that I have wrote
These last four days have been the hardest of my life and I have a heavy weight pushing on my chest. Love you, ma.