May 19, 2013
May 18, 2013
May 17, 2013
May 16, 2013
May 15, 2013
May 14, 2013
May 13, 2013
I wrote this post four times,
but deleted them
because to write
about losing a mother (oh god) is to trivialize unforgivably
and also seems unwise
(spit now, quick, three times).
We took flowers to a nursing home today,
because my friend is a beautiful spirit
and her mother loved to visit nursing homes.
It was Mother’s Day.
It was beautiful,
it was awful,
I was inadequate.
How can I express,
without gloating but with full intensity,
that I am so glad to be alive,
and my daughter and mother with me?
I can’t, not elegantly,
but I am, and I love you.
May 12, 2013
After another picnic,
the little girl lounged in the bath
with a rare ramune soda.
She rattled the marble in her bottle.
Mom? I feel like such a grownup.
Here I am,
just restin’, just restin’ here,
drinkin’ my drink,
not doin’ anything else,
just takin’ a bath like grownup.
And the best part was,
she growled it just like Bette Davis.