Rosemary's Mommy

some thoughts that spilled out about my mom, our relationship, her death

I am ready to write.

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Since that night I’ve had a fright

And I’ve denied myself the right

To write

About you

I can’t speak your name or title

And yet I say your name numerous times every day

Because that’s my infant girl’s name

Unable to speak and unable to write

About you

Why?

‘Fraid to acknowledge the mistakes I made

Nervous that just thinking of you I’ll be able to channel your soul and feel your disappointment of me

Like when you were here

But it’s different now

I accepted your disappointment then because I thought you didn’t really know me

But I know that with you on the other side you know all there is to know

And true disappointment now would be a tremendous blow.

It tickles me (now) that you always knew

Every little thing that I was going to do

Like the Strawberry Shortcake shoes

That were at least two sizes too big

I had that clerk fooled

But of course you knew

And didn’t get the shoes

There are a million examples of that -

You knowing me better than I knew myself

Most times you knew what I was doing before I’d start

Like needing glasses or writing G’s or slowing my heart.

I guess I just needed attention

Which is also why I talked incessantly in class

And was always such a hard-headed, smart-a*s

I spent my life trying to hide myself from her.

She spent her life crying from my attempts to hide.

She thought she should know every little cranny of my soul.

I thought it my right to deny her the right

To invade the privacy of my life

Unbeknownst to me my attempts were useless

Cuz she still knew my heart

Because I was a part of her

The first part she loved

And aside I shoved her

My entire life til hers ended

You knew me so well even though I tried to hide

But it seemed you still didn’t know

My good intentions and the promising potential I had inside

But wait…yeah, you did

Now that I think about it,

Your bragging never ceased

Which always annoyed the hell outta me

I think I purposely failed at everything

Just to prove you wrong, so you’d have nothing to say

And now, gosh darnitt, I do the same damn thing

Reveling in the specialness my kids bring

Now I understand it’s impossible not to share and brag to everyone I see

And hopefully they won’t end up hating me.

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I know you were strong

Though I made you feel the weakest

But why oh why did you keep all those secrets

I know nothing of my family or our past

I have nothing to tell my kids when they ask

Cuz who knows like a mother

The details of my birth

Who knows but a mother

My true value and worth

And who knows but my mother

The name of my father

His personality and features

And all the reasons he abandoned his mixed daughter

My children can never know their grandmother or grandfather

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So now it’s been four orphaned years.

Dang! Has it really been four years?

How’s it possible that I was the only one there?

The one you said never cared

Was the only one present to rub your patchy hair

I notice the wigs on the make-shift dresser.

Your sister and I

Begging you to let go

Letting you know we’d be alright when you’d go

So distressing to have to say goodbye this way

To a woman not even half a century

And her cancer ravaged body

I see the cane peeking out of the closet.

A gaping, dying smile with brittle teeth

Wrapped in dried lips that can barely be seen

and a tiny cracked tongue without any sheen

no longer wagging or bragging a bit

no longer able to even produce any spit.

All I could think was why am I here.

What good is it for me to moisten her mouth

To move her limbs to try to alleviate the bed sores.

I can’t stop staring at that prosthetic breast. Get it the hell outta here already!

Call the favored one

Or her special baby, her son

Why do I have to be the one?

But responsibility called and I finally picked up

I guess I have to do it, though my heart is ripped up

Cuz sis won’t answer her phone

Because hospice made it known

That she wouldn’t last through the night

I’m the oldest, so it’s my right, my plight

My baby bro’s only 16 years old.

A deadbeat dad and a perishing mom –

That’s cold

So now the 22-year-old with the four-year-old

Is the matriarch of the broken, depleted clan

I hope I can live up to your high expectations

Because I know I can.

That’s why I’m here.

To call the funeral home to collect the toxic body

To watch as they cover and wheel her away

To call hospice to collect their things

And thank them for all the help they’d bring

To make calls to family I don’t know til dawn

To tell them their sister, their niece is gone.

That’s why I’m here.

To put together a memorial service

There’s no way my super-sensitive sister could do this.

My brother looks broken and alone

But no love could I have shown

Cuz I was still hiding all my feelings

Just trying to get through

Acting like a bad a*s, like I’d always do

Trying to act like it mattered little to lose you

But that’s all lies too.

I’m sorry for all I put you through

I do appreciate everything you tried to do

Though it’s kinda too late to communicate it to you

I don’t feel badly cuz you always know what’s in my heart

Even before I do.

Thank you for being my mom.

Author's Note

I know it needs fine-tuning, but I haven't been able to touch it since it came out.
Guess I don't really know where to start.

Reviews

[Leonard W. Kenyon]

I thought this was raw, honest and beautiful. I'm glad to hear you say the things I've seen flicker in your eyes, if only for moments, I'm glad your at least showing the burdon if not lifting it.