To Mom, Who Would Have Been 75 This Thursday

The acrid, arid, bitter ache
Is gone, although
Some days are still and sad
Calling you to chat
Seems possible
Until memory reminds,
Tugs at the scars
Tattooed upon my heart.

Life goes on despite
The searing flame of loss,
Now merely simmering.
The frustrated grief
Still demanding the question, “Why?”
Does not demand so petulantly
Any more.

Ivy covers barren brick facades,
Tendril by tendril growing back,
Like hearts after the death
Of a mother; genesis of life.

Going ever on
Softly disguised by kind and verdant
Leaves; lush vines.
Cold and hard
Somewhere underneath
But resting, at last.

Knowing pain is past
While memories fade gently
Shading thoughts of tenderness
Caressing memories of you.

You held me close when
I was small; taught me to walk
And stay safe in your heart.
It is my turn now and
You are safe
Within this heart,
Never more out of place.

Dear Mom,

Although I still wish you could be here with all of us right now, it may have been a blessing for you, strangely, that you are not. You did not have to see the World Trade Towers go down after terrorists rammed into them in planes filled with innocent passengers, nor have you had to follow the news of war or the machinations of a president of dubious integrity largely due to his own superficial religious pretentions and an inexcusable stupidity where matters of war are concerned. However, he has been very good for business and Eisenhower would be proud of the way he and two of his modern day predecessors have been keeping the military-industrial complex well greased and running to the stock holders content. You have been missed, but considering what you have missed, I cannot honestly say you would have been better served, knowing the state of your health those final months, surviving to see all of this other stuff.

One very painful thing that is happening right now is Patty's battle with leukemia. You would have thought immediately of the little girl who lived in your mother's old house, before our family ever moved in, who died of leukemia, and you would have worried, again, that it might be contagious, despite the ensuing years of good health and well-lived lives. We all miss you, although Dad's "new" wife has really been such a help and support to all of us, but especially for Patty. I know Patty misses you and wishes you could have seen Katie play the violin or one of Brad's art projects. They are both something quite special.

I still think of picking up the phone to call, although the stab of pain no longer stabs, merely tugging gently where it used to hurt so much. I still see your face in my thoughts and wish we could talk again, even if we got crabby with each other and disagreed on what was being done for this person or that one and why. I missed you last year at my graduation, and will think of you again next Spring when I have finished my Master's Degree. I hope you would have been as proud of me as you always were of Patty and Sue, although my achievements are arriving belatedly in life.

We never had any children. If we had, I wanted to name a little girl after you and Ross's mom or a son after both dads. But, it never happened, so we dote upon our pussycats which, I suspect, was all you ever saw me doing anyway. I remember most of our good moments, a few of our bad ones, and some of the times we laughed together until we cried. I remember how you liked some of my poems and asked me to sing your favorite Christmas carol for you that last year. I have all of the words somewhere and want to learn it by heart, but have not yet gotten to it. Perhaps it is that I have been so busy with school or, perhaps, it is because I still cry whenever I try to sing it and have to stop in the middle to blow my nose, which would have made you laugh at me. I did not mind your laughing at me sometimes, Mom, I just wish I could have figured out how to manage that particular thing on purpose. Others have laughed in the same way, reminding me of you, and I still am not too sure just what it is I have done or said to cause it, but there it is.

We are all hanging in there, getting on with our lives and hoping for good things in all of our futures, but mostly remembering how much we miss you as we try to stay positive for Patty's sake, as well as the kids', while she endures all of the pain and indignities of being, hopefully, cured of leukemia. She will not let anyone hold her hand, I think she decided that was your place and you are not able to be here for her. That makes me sadder than anything else, Mom, that Patty cannot have you there when her head hurts badly or she is so sick from the chemo and radiation. We are also afraid we may have to say our goodbyes to her far too soon, something you could have helped us with, although we do not speak of it most of the time.

I cannot imagine having had a better mother or a different one. You are so much a part of me that I cannot let you go, not really, but I am able to say goodbye right now because I know where to find you no matter when I call.

I love you, Mom.

Love,
Liz