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Mother’s Day-Three Years Later

I may speak to you
as a still portrait on the wall
no wailing
ghosts don’t present
only those of memories
especially
clasping the cross
between my fingers
as it was buried
on your chest
no tears
I only whisper
“Mom…”
are you stirred?
I reach out
truly
lean in
indubitably
to the Lord
who
with no doubt
hears
my heart cry
I don’t use
many words
on
the smile of your shadow
but lean
into
the sure everlasting arms
of Jesus

it’s almost time to honor you
are you still my mother
or merely my sister
in Christ?
do we retain the same relationship
or
is it like husbands & wives?

the bible says
we are like the angels
in heaven
no longer
given
to marriage

so I wonder…
I wondered
at the beginning
of your death -
do I still
have a mother
or
am I motherless?

I tuck
the Mother’s Day card
away
my husband thought
I’d want to put
it into her arms
next to her large portrait
next to her purple urn
on that first motherless occasion

I can’t even look at it
I can’t conceive it
the scent of funereal flowers
fills my living space
and the altar of grief notes
is growing
I throw them down
like a house of cards
likewise discard the flowers
leaving dried petals of sunshine
in a broom closet box

it’s three years later
the dust settles
the drum beats
always reminding me
we must rehearse
every day
not pick up the phone
not regress
be addressed
only by our own

my children can still reach me
if they choose…I’ll hear

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