I reach out to Mother only to discover she is missing; she has gone in search of me.
The dream unsettles me. I capture the essence by writing it down, then set the words aside, not knowing where to begin. The sorrow lingers.
I remember the moment I knew I’d been displaced in my mother’s life. I was four and needing Mother’s comfort. I sought to sit on her lap, only the lap was already taken: a wriggling, crying infant now took precedence. So, I learned to find solace from another Mother – Nature’s reassuring presence.
“I depended on you for so much,” Mom told me once, catching me by surprise. “You were my rock – independent, smart – and also an enigma. I felt inadequate as a mother.”
I learned not to need my mother, through childhood, adolescence (left home at seventeen) and even throughout my own parenting years…
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time stands
still
no thrill
old litanies
of annoyance
reveraberate
loudly sadly
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