Mom How Are you Today

Mom, How Are You Today?

“How are you, Mom?” I ask. Three days have passed,

since I had the chance to visit last.

I settle to arrange her favorite flowers.

I love these days, we laugh and chat for hours.

She wears that sweet perfume we bought together;

that string of thrift shop ‘pearls’ she’s loved forever.

Her dress is cotton blue like summer skies,

and years of kindness shine within her eyes.

“…Yeah, work is work as ever, Mom!” I say.

“Same old crap, just on a different day.”

“Language dear!” she warns me with a smile.

My fault, I haven’t checked that for a while.

I fill up little cups with Earl Grey tea.

“Remember when you bought this flask for me?”

So selfish and unthankful I was then.

Naïve and immature, just nine or ten. 

But even in those breezy carefree years,

life was marred with tantrums, angst and tears.

A few years on and Mom had seen my worst;

hang-ups, lies, and Jesus how I cursed…

I showed no love, and even less respect,

such precious years all spoiled, spent and wrecked. 

“Mom, all those times I huffed and walked away,

If I had known then, what I know today…”

Tears roll down my cheeks, it’s time for home,

It’s always hard to leave her here, alone.

“Mom, I wish so much I’d hugged you more,

And we’d had more days like these before…”

“…I love you Mom, I do!” I say now often,

hoping that the cruel regret will soften.

And in my head, she’s fading with a wave,

for I sit, not by her side – 

but at her grave.