A Motherless Day

I remember the moment
like it was just a second ago…
You are sitting in the brown chair in the corner
in the room we lived in.
The TV is on as always and
you are teaching me,
teaching me to be patient,
teaching me to be sensitive,
teaching me to be alive at nine years old.
Little Pinkey is sitting with us and
you’re showing me how you got
her to beg, and then to
speak to you. I remember…
it did sound like “cookie”
when Pinkey sang with you.

Oh Mommy, I miss you.

I remember the moment
just as if it happened last night…
You are sitting in the metal and plastic covered chair
around the table in the room
we cooked and ate in.
You are laughing and smiling and teaching
me how to be joyful when grief and mourning
pervade my teenage life. You smile
and the whole world lights up.
You talk to me of clothes and fashion
and fun and travels and dreams come true.
I can still hear your wonder-filled laugh
and see the sparkle of life in your 70 plus year old
eyes. We sing together like silly kids.

Oh Aunt Martha, I miss you.

I remember the moment
just like it was this past April…
We are together – cruising the Caribbean.
You the Merry Widow.
Me, the Gay Divorcee.
On the Jubilee we need nobody else;
no man or woman to make us content.
We are happy to just be together -
to dress up at night -
to play Black Jack and slots -
to remember the past together in
silent respect. To savor the moments
that would not happen again.
Our song ended too soon.

Oh Anna, I miss you.

I remember the moment
just like it was yesterday…
I come in to the little room
and there you sit in your caned backed chair.
I give you your pills and get you ready
for bed. You laugh and smile and kid
me about babying you.
I leave you in front of the TV, we kiss,
and I say good night. I say “I love you, Jane.”
You say, “I love you more.”
The love never ends but your
sweet song is missing in my life.

Oh Jane, I miss you so.