Tag Archives: mother

I’ve Been a Bad Girl . . . A Poem

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Rainy Sunday, Mother’s Day

Mama was at home

I took a shovel from the shed

And cracked her collarbone

 

Then I used the handle part

to gouge out her right eye

To my surprise it burst inside

then shed upon her cheek

 

Oh, Mama, silly woman

I told you I’d be back

to stop the strife

to end your life

then stuff you in a sack

 

 

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Canon in D

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Canon in D begins streaming into my ears. I am in my kitchen, before the divorce, before my babies grew up and left home, before I developed a chronic case of severe depression. I stand barefoot on the pine floor, piano notes rise like fragrant flowers from our basement. I close my eyes and absorb the pleasure the old piano offers. My daughter plays and plays very well. She has natural musical talent; it moves me every time she plays. My heart lifts, and my soul is soothed.

Then I am back in reality; there were no children in the house. I wasn’t even in the house. I sat alone in a coffee shop, listening to songs from a website. Despite my effort to stay composed in public, tears, like little refugees from unbearable circumstances, escaped my eyes, and my heart ached.

Thank you, my daughter and my son, for making my life meaningful and overflowing with good memories.

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Aging Gracefully? Who Made Up That Contradiction?

When I realize I’m “old,” it’s when I’m in the act of saying or thinking or doing something I never usually do. I am 47. Examples below:

1) I am looking at shirts (which I now call blouses) in colors of fuschia, lime green, and bright red with the hemline decorated in embroidered leaves. What happened to my usual earthtones, basic black, and soft beige?

2) I now choose, sandals which exactly match my tops or scarf (another example, I’m wearing sheer scarves).

3) I call women in their early 20s “lovely young ladies” or “beautiful girls.”

4) I catch myself telling my boyfriend how to drive – “Here’s our turn” (when he’s turned there a hundred times before) or “Watch your speed.” The worst is that I turn down or off the radio ANY time someone else is in the vehicle.

5) I often think I’m cool

6) I shop at thrift stores for shoes. Never done that before. I say, “But these were only $4, and the scuff marks can be fixed with a little magic marker!”

7) Instead of reading Glamour or Cosmo, I picked up a copy of AARP Magazine in the doc’s office recently to read an article about melanoma.

8) I sometimes just don’t give a shit what other people think. NOT like my past behavior at all.

9) When I speak, I literally hear my  mom’s voice coming from my mouth. Where does that come from?

10) I have said, “When I was in high school, computer printers were the size of 2 stacked pick-up truck beds.” I’ve also said, “When I was growing up, there were no microwaves in homes.”

11) Sometimes, I pass Taco Bell and remember the original Encherito. It had three black olive slices on top. Taco Bell was a true treat “back then.” Ugh!

12) My iPhone pics don’t look like everyone else’s. Some old, tired face stares back at me. Listless eyes and thinner hair. WTF?!

13) To make a Baker’s Dozen (See? That’s an old phrase), I looked at ugly, fake silk moomoos at Dollar General and thought aloud, “This would be comfy to wear around the house.” It was leopard print on gold, for god’s sake!

So, I’m resigning to the fact that I’m aging and it’s showing. I try to catch myself when I say or do something out of the ordinary, but I’m not always successful. It depresses me. I’m not ready to look like a grandma (which I’ll be any day now). I’m not ready to admit that most of the actors on primetime TV are freaking infants! Who am I the target audience for now? Pharmaceutical advertisements, that’s who!

Life marches on whether we are ready or not. Time takes over our faces, our hands, and our minds.

And it SUCKS!

(Oh, and I forget stuff. I wanted to include that above, but I forgot)