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Mom

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Tomorrow is mother’s day. Oh, how I miss her. But lately I’ve taken to expressing gratitude that she’s not here for this. This Covid-19 lockdown, she’d be worried more about Shawn and me than about her own self — and the brain tumour thing, too. She would hate it knowing that chemo’s been challenging for me, and there would be no way to be together. So I’ve been saying, “Well, it’s a good thing Mom’s not here for this”. And my brother agrees.

But then, a couple of weeks or so ago, (it was a hard time, too, I was all barfy and weak and sleepy), she did come. I felt her so strong, that I woke completely alert from a nap and said, “I have to call Mom”. But then I realized she wasn’t there to answer. I felt her right beside me, that time, and another time too. The feeling of her hung around for a while. I could hear her laughter — almost feel her hug me. Though she wasn’t here, not really.

It took me until just the last couple of days to realize that, no, she was there. That was her answer. She’s right here, just as she always was. That’s why I felt her. But I don’t need to tell you that — you knew.

Happy Mother’s Day.

About easilyriled

My mom was Edith, my dad was John. I have a brother, who is Shawn. I have many friends and allies and mentors in my life. I'm white, over-educated, working in a field for which I am not yet trained, messy, funny, smart, lesbian, feminist "Not the fun kind", as Andrea Dworkin said. But I, like the feminists I hang with, ARE fun. I play accordion better than I did, and i'm kinda learning the concertina. But really, only theoretically. So no. Not learning concertina. But learning how to do my new job. I suspect this will be lifelong.

2 responses »

  1. Thank you for this lovely piece!
    It’s simply beautiful.
    Warmest healthiest wishes to you,
    XO

    Reply

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