Mar 2014
Mama,
I love you with my heart and soul; why did you have to grow old? The forgetfulness is everyday and you hurt me with the things you say. I miss our talks, I miss our hugs: when I say I love you, I just get a shrug. You look at me with a blank stare, as if you're wondering why I'm there. You don't know me, your own daughter, and as the days go by you disappear farther. There are days when you do see me, but those are few and far between. I miss your laughter and our talks and how we'd link arms when we walked. Now as I push you around in a chair, I think to God how this isn't fair. I want the mother I used to know, not the one that comes and goes. The memories of us run through my head as I watch you lying in that bed. You're now a prisoner of your own mind and there are days when your words aren't kind. The things you say cut my heart in two; that isn't my mother, that isn't you. There are days when I wish the angels were here, to take you to daddy, but that's also my fear. To lose my mommy, the one I remember, but that would mean that I surrendered. That I gave up on seeing recognition and the love in your eyes that had no conditions. I get so angry and frustrated with you when you forget what to do. I know it's not how you wanted your golden years to be and that you'd be mortified to see: the way your life has taken a twist and that it's not what you'd wish. When the times comes for you to go, the tears from my heart will overflow. They will be from immense relief, but also from heartbreaking grief because even though you're gone now, long ago you kissed my brow. You are my mother, mama, mommy, friend and I will love you to the bittersweet end.
I love you with my heart and soul; why did you have to grow old? The forgetfulness is everyday and you hurt me with the things you say. I miss our talks, I miss our hugs: when I say I love you, I just get a shrug. You look at me with a blank stare, as if you're wondering why I'm there. You don't know me, your own daughter, and as the days go by you disappear farther. There are days when you do see me, but those are few and far between. I miss your laughter and our talks and how we'd link arms when we walked. Now as I push you around in a chair, I think to God how this isn't fair. I want the mother I used to know, not the one that comes and goes. The memories of us run through my head as I watch you lying in that bed. You're now a prisoner of your own mind and there are days when your words aren't kind. The things you say cut my heart in two; that isn't my mother, that isn't you. There are days when I wish the angels were here, to take you to daddy, but that's also my fear. To lose my mommy, the one I remember, but that would mean that I surrendered. That I gave up on seeing recognition and the love in your eyes that had no conditions. I get so angry and frustrated with you when you forget what to do. I know it's not how you wanted your golden years to be and that you'd be mortified to see: the way your life has taken a twist and that it's not what you'd wish. When the times comes for you to go, the tears from my heart will overflow. They will be from immense relief, but also from heartbreaking grief because even though you're gone now, long ago you kissed my brow. You are my mother, mama, mommy, friend and I will love you to the bittersweet end.
