Living Eulogy To Mom After Cielo Or Bust
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
Copyright © Elizabeth Duran | Year Posted 2019
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