Mother's Day Child
I haven't had to buy a card
or make a phone call
on a Mother's Day
for going on a
decade and a half.
The day has since been
a moment to remember
the last moment.
The last gift I ever gave her.
One more wound on
Mothers and daughters
have complicated relationships.
What we have in common with
all the daughters and the mothers
is a complicated womanhood.
That keeps us, in the end,
willing to pity the one with whom
we push and pull.
The last gift I gave my mother
was presiding at her funeral.
As my silent siblings and a few
I shoved my bare hand into
her ashen remains and spread
her on the grave of her 2nd husband.
I carried the rest of the ashes in a plastic
tub to her gravesite next to my father.
I said some words scribbled on a yellow note pad.
I spoke of the complicated woman, the burdens
she bore including us children.
I said that no matter the memories or
the scars of the relationship there was still dignity in her
unique place in our lives.
I said that dignity will never be taken from her.
It was the first time I walked away from my mother
And still whole.
Our complicated God understands and loves us both.
Peace be with you.
Peace be with all for whom Mother's Day is complicated.
Deb Grant, resilient child of God, creative tinker of paper, ink, wood, shiny things, paint and words. The human amusement of a parrot and a dog.
Writer, poet, artist, human, citizen, learner, scruffy, goof.
Word Food by Deb is randomly published. More than weekly, less than daily at the following media sites: