Memories of Mothers Day
Made motherless
in your mid teens,
father removed by grief,
brother and sister
crying out, your youth
was taken by need.
Emotions went subterranean,
kept capped too deep in you
to weep to the surface.
You became a mother.
As a child
I never knew your pain,
I was too busy with my own.
You carried those unhealed
scars under a granite veneer.
Tears were meant to be held
back and arms kept busy
baking and servicing
the myriad of chores
a housewife did back then.
They were not meant
for holding me.
We loved from a distance.
Only in the slow dissolution
of your dying did we see each
other as we were.
We talked for hours
until words were done
and there came a silence
where existed only love
between mother and son
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