Mom

Sometimes I dream that my mom is in the water, beaten against sugary brown shores and I play life guard.
 other nights she is the water, and I am dragged out to sea by her absence
The funny thing about losing a parent at the precipice of adulthood is that everyone expects you to gain from their passing
Gain maturity
Gain words
Gain anything
But I lose my sleep at night, wondering what the last thought that fluttered through her mind  could have been
If a "help me" flittered across her tongue that wasn't quite strong enough to vocalize
I think of myself miles away from shore, grappling for any trace of a life vest,
Something that lets me know she is resting
At peace with her own fate
Even if I am not