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I stood tall in front of the head stone.
A bunch of cheap flowers in my hands
Were given to me by my uncle.
     I felt all the discomfort of the world.
     What was I doing there, staring at a tomb?
I was told my mother was buried there.
I had never seen my mother, I felt no bond.
     Evil tongues said she died of an overdose.
     Ashamed I never wanted to know of  her ever.

Now on my  eighteenth birthday
My uncle made me visit her tomb.
So I stood emotionless, just staring.
My uncle told me to mumble a prayer,
To whom?  To this supposed mother of mine?
She had died ages ago.  Eighteen years?
          I did not know nor did I want to know.
          She was dead.  Let her rest in sacred peace.
          After all I wished her no ill will nor anger.
          I tossed the flowers on her grave and turned to go.

My uncle stopped me and silently handed me an envelop.
Written on the large missive were just a few words:
“From your mother.”  Inside was a letter.
I turned on my uncle, but he was gone.

My first instinct was to throw the envelop away.
Who could say it was from this mother?
But curiosity got the better of me and read:
         “Dear daughter, I saw you being born as tears fell 
          Without control, for I knew I will never
          See you grow up and learn what life has in store.
          Your father disappeared as soon as I got pregnant.
          Giving you birth was painful but worth it.
          For you had to live, and I hoped, live to the full.
          For me life is now at an end, for my tumour
          Will surely kill me, as all doctors said.
         They gave me just one solution, that to abort you.
         Then they would remove the tumour that will kill me.
         But I refused.  Why should I kill you?
         What wrong had you done to deserve death?
         So I preferred to die so you could live.
         May God bless you and keep you whole.”

I read the letter twice, faintly unimpressed.
Then I saw there was a photo in the envelop.
A perfect picture of my mother, very much like me.
Then tears fell. 
                          Then I knelt down and prayed.


29 March 2021
Mother - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
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