In another life

The interlude

Would be the prelude

The prelude

Would be the amplitude

The amplitude

Would be the fortitude

The fortitude

Would hold

the Denouement

But

In this life

The prelude

Was the prelude

The amplitude

Was Aruba

And the fortitude

Was just the fortissimo

And I

Sit

In a bar

Alone

All the Month of May, and March, your birth month, are to me Mementos in our family calendar. Ever since your passing, not a day goes by that I do not think of you, but in these the Moments are that much more with Emphasis.

Mom you were my best friend. In ways, you will always remain as such. After all, I still talk to you as if you were right here.

In your Homemade pink floured apron, and the kerchief you wore over your silken hair, I can picture you advising me as you juggled things on the Stove, in the Oven and tended the Store front, and us three children. Mom, I've no idea how you did it. You would remind me to look at the simple things for Inspiration.

Nobody bakes and cooked like you did. I have the Recipes!! and neither I nor my wife (God Bless the Angel for trying!) can replicate. I know it was something to do with the Exactness of how things were done, not the pinch of this or that but How. Whether sprinkled in or rolled or in one clump or over Time. Or how Hot or Cold. You knew. And I'm sure you told me too. I forget. I have learned that Lesson though.

I'm trying to pass that on to the Grandchildren. That Thoughtfulness. That Thoroughness. And that Toughness.

Thank you Mom. It's that No Fail pie crust I'm craving now. No matter what you put in there is was always Right. Perfect. Comfort and Conversation. Just add You and Me, and a pot of Tea, with its yellow cozy.

To you Mom.

All our Love,

Keith

Dear Stepmother,

When you first came into my life, I'll be honest I did not want to give you a chance because I wished my parents would have been together. I soon realized that life was not going to go the way I wanted it to but yet I still did not want to even give you a chance. When I went to dads for spring break every morning, I would look out the window to see if your car was there and I would be sad if it was and happy if it wasn't. Over the year I slowly started to realize that I needed to give you a chance, so I did. I thought you were too strict and mean so I really did not look at you as a mom until the day you and dad said that I could live with you all. The day you both said I could move in with you I began to realize you cared because you knew I did not like living with my birth mom, I saw that you loved me like I was your own. After I moved in you were still strict, but I soon realized that it was because you wanted me to succeed in life. I started calling you mom because you showed me and treated me like your daughter. when I had my seizers, I called for you after because as my mom I knew you would take care of me. You made sure I took my medicine and that I was taking care of myself. You refused to give up on me when I wanted to give up on myself. I would not be where I am today if it was not for you mom. You are my mother, and I would not have it any other way. Happy Mother's Day and thank you for loving me like your own.

Love,

Your Daughter.

Dear Mom,

I hope you know that I try my hardest to be easy to get along with. I know you want me to be a carbon copy of you, and I try my best for you to see me as just that. I know it is not me, but I have given up on the possibility of you seeing my perspective. And that’s okay. I can’t blame you for problems caused by your own mother.

I love you.

Dear Dad,

You're my savior, you became the mom I needed when mine left. You may not have known much, but I didn't either, and we learned together. When I needed to dress up for my recital in first grade, I wanted a high ponytail, you didn't know how to do it so it looked slick, you felt so bad. So you went on facebook and saw a dad do it with a vacuum. I couldn't stop laughing because it was so silly, but you did my hair and I loved it. When I got my period for the first time you looked up videos and asked all the women in our family how to help me. You knew I was gonna have to live and grow up without my mom, so you took on her role, you did everything a mom would do.

In most peoples life they have a mom and dad, whether they are together or not, in my lifetime I lost my mom, I didn't have one, and you stepped up. You became the mom I needed. Happy mother's day Dad, I love you.

anxious and bitter

a pill makes it better

but God doesn't just

work on neurotransmitters

Dear mom,

First and foremost, I want to tell you that I love you. (Here is where you say “I love you more”). I love you more.

You have told me many times that I am the reason you were born. Quoting a movie, apparently, though I can’t find it when I look it up, so maybe you’re misquoting (which is even better - in that case, it is your own).

“She is the reason I was born.” - you?

I don’t know why I was born. It might be the same reason. You were born to be my mom and I was born to be your daughter. Did you know that women are born with all of their eggs? So, in a way, I was with you your whole life. Sometimes, I get sad because I cannot go back in time and hug you. I know you had sad times when you were a kid and I want to comfort you then but I was not born until you were 31. I like the idea that I was always with you.

I don’t think that I am your only purpose. While I do think that I am most of all your daughter (and dad’s daughter, and Eddie’s sister, etc.), there are other things about me. The same goes for you. You are a mother, a wife, a sister, an aunt (and you are good at all of those things), but also: you’re a great cook, you’re better than everyone at Boggle, you’re the most generous and kind person I have ever met, you are smart (especially at computer stuff that I don’t understand), you are fashionable (you don’t need my help even though you think you do). Most importantly, all animals love you (sometimes, I worry you will pick up a wild animal and bring it home and it would let you).

Sometimes you say mean things to yourself, particularly about your appearance, which not only makes me sad, but also has never made sense. For my whole life, I’ve wanted to look like you. I’ve only ever heard people say that you’re beautiful.

I know I say I want to die a lot (and, when I’m having panic attacks, I do feel that way. Thank you for taking me to endless doctors appointments for the last decade by the way), but I am grateful for my life. Remember when I said “I don’t believe things will ever get better”? You said “I’ll believe for you”. That was when I was in high school and I think about it all the time. I have actually told that to other people as well when they feel the same way. Things did get better, and then they got worse, but I hope they will get better again.

Thank you for giving me Eddie, too. And Mia. And Chilly (via Eddie).

Ex anima (I learned that from college. It means “from the heart/soul”),

GAEGBG

p. s. (this stands for postscript. i learned that in college),

i challenge you to a full game of rummy 500

Mom,

I'm sorry, from the bottom of my heart, for the pain I've put you through. Your first born succumbed to the pleasures and tragedies of the world. I've been addicted to horrors. My heart has only known pain and disappointment in the face of love. I've had no choice but to make solitude my best friend. How terrible it is to watch your child suffer, unable to do anything for them. You taught me kindness, compassion, and empathy, so I know you've felt my pain as if it were your own. And knowing that breaks my heart even further. I promise it was never intentional. I hope you never know just how awful I feel knowing you've suffered because of my actions.

I've gotten through unspeakable battles that you will never know about, but understand that I have become stronger because of them. I am wiser and even more compassionate from those things, and it is from your example that I was able to emerge from hell with even more love and empathy for the world. I hope that makes up for all the pain and tears that have fallen because of me. I hope you understand the love I feel for you even though you couldn't be there to help me or hug me when I needed it most. I cry every night hoping you don't hate yourself because of that. My son, your grandson, will be stronger because of it all. All because of you. I love you so much.

Love always,

James

I know they can't even be an ounce, but the weight is so much more.

Two five by seven glossies, printed in a tourist trap kiosk. I paid a far higher price than I should have, but the cost hasn't yet been tallied.

Money is a tide, but memory is a well.

Wells sometimes run dry.

Her well isn't as deep as it once was.

I'm stricken by how much she looks like her grandmother. What strikes me even more is the possibility that she'll live as long.

I'm ashamed to admit that I hope she doesn't. Her independence is already gone, her mobility a thing of the past and her thoughts have started trailing after.

My great-grand was with us into my early twenties. She lived long enough to wither on the vine, mind as sharp as a razor but a body fragile as glass. When the light in her eyes began to dim, when her memory began to slip, her body had already started to go. It was an easy thing for her to follow.

My mother's mind started slipping by inches, and her body has declined by miles. Now it's a race to see which one will be gone first.

She knows she's in decline. She's fighting it, but she's losing.

Dialysis starts soon.

I took her on a bucket list trip last week; we originally had it planned for late summer.

Late summer will be too late.

The water was too cold, but she went anyway. She'd never stepped foot in the Caribbean, and now she has.

When I told her about the trip, the first thing she asked was if she could swim with dolphins.

"Absolutely you will," I told her.

And she did.

She hates having her photo taken, so while she was distracted with my step father, I moseyed over to the photo center.

She never asked what I had in the bag.

Two photographs, professionally captured, have her kissing or petting her very own personal Flipper. She watched that show when she was a kid, and half a century later, she finally got to swim with a bottlenose.

When it's her time to go, I'll probably be tasked with building an electronic photo reel. It will be hard to do, because she avoids cameras when she can. She always has.

I knew when I bought these pictures that eventually they'd be displayed in memoriam.

Carrying these photos back to my hotel room, I know they can't even be an ounce, but the weight is so much more.

“Words hurt” a phrase that only ever applied to me.

When I think of all of the scars inside me, it is proof that you were right.

You said there was nothing I could do to make you stop loving me,

but if that were true as well then why did you leave me in a dark, lonely box and refuse to ever hear me when I cried for you?

7 years is a long time to spend in solitary.

A roof, food, clothing,

none of that makes a mother.

I have learned that, since taking your place.

I have learned all of the things that I would never do as a mother,

let alone as a person that cares about others.

You shattered me, and I was left with so many pieces.

I am still trying to make sense of them, some don’t seem to fit anywhere anymore.

I am forced to rebuild,

recover on my own while you continue your life as if nothing ever happened.

Faded words in an ancient book of your life.

I wonder if I was one of your pieces that just didn’t fit anymore.

I have long since stopped crying for you.