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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required After El Cielo or Bust I know time isn’t on my Mother’s side for much longer Her frail body like a delicate wine glass that has just tipped off the table toward a floor that is sturdier than an antique piece of furniture. And I am watching it In slow-motion waiting waiting For the sound to catch My ear because I can’t Bare to look. I know this because She has made sure to teach me One last time How to make enchiladas Using no measurements Of any kind. “mira cuanto mija” I never looked Until now. She has been writing In her journal a final Goodbye where She talks about all the things She couldn’t tell me in Person But I already know What she will talk about She will tell me I am her pride And joy. Her morning sunrise And her sunset. I am a piece of My grandmother that lived on. She will Talk about my children being more than she could ask for. How her heart explodes everytime One calls her abuela Because she has dreamed Of being a grandma Since she had a hysterectomy At 25. She will mention how we shouldn’t Take life for granted. And I will see the smudged ink where A single tear dropped at the very moment She confessed this and her palm tried To dry it off but it still stained The paper like an imprisoned memory. She will acknowledge her addiction Which I already know exists But she will reiterate it anyway Because it will give her peace Of mind one last time. When she has penned out all of her thoughts That were hiding in the crevices like A thin layer of polvo, I will dust them off And put into the crevices Of my own mind. I know I will miss my mother And I still cannot comprehend How much because it hasn’t happened But when it does, I will curl up like a baby On my cold bed and come back to this Moment. When I spent my time writing About her instead of being with her Because she has made the Sacrifice to watch my kids while I work on my poetry assignment For class. And it makes me sad because We were never close enough to hug; Not emotionally Never physically Always mentally Mama I am still a child I need you here. I haven’t matured enough To give you a hug without Feeling embarrassed Without overcoming The fear that my first hug Will be my last. Now, she is the mother I have always wanted She is the mother I have always needed And now it is too late To go back to my teenage years When I rejected her for being an addict, because I have learned no one is Perfect, but to me Mama you are perfect now
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