It was so loud, the first nine months. Back then, I could feel it. Every thump, every beat and every flutter of your heart. The sound of your voice still resonates through me my mind. Your touch, softer than any fabric known to mankind. Your nervous eyes, staring helpless down into mine. The comfort of hear heartbeat, next to mine, eases my discomfort; hear heart, is my most precious time piece. Every beat marked the passing of another moment, that brought me closer to life. As a result of the most unbearable pain, that unselfish sacrifice, resulted in my birth. I guess that's why they say love is pain. Now, instead of carrying me, you hold me in your arms; cuddled, loved, protected... your deep, dark, eyes, till this day, are my favorite shade of brown. The sound of your tender voice, is my favorite sound. I wish I would have never grown; cause before, when I cried, and you picked my up, it felt like you would never let me down; until everything was okay, or my bottle was ready. I guess things have changed now, I'm a little bit heavy -  but, that doesn't mean I'm no longer your baby.

why does
my mother assume
when i write in first person,
the words on the
page
automatically
make up
a biography.

in this case,
however,
she probably should assume.

I've memorized the dance routine to get down my creaky staircase;
left two three, right two three, spin, skip and check.
Then quickly get into the garage for a way-past-bedtime cigarette.
Once I’m done, I quietly walk into the living room to check on her.
Although my mother has a large bedroom,
her hips are so brittle she's claimed the living room as her nighttime retreat.
My stomach churns with guilt as our puppy leaves her side
tail wagging excited to come greet me,
something she never does for my mom.
Alone on the couch,
her desperate attempt for the shared affection our dog gives her children
clearly having failed; I nearly collapse from the guilt.
If only I could force that dog
to give her the one thing she needs, craves and deserves.
Why must the world be so hard for some, and easy for others.
Where people have their lives destroyed,
their lovers killed, their passions crushed
and others sail through it all in bliss.
Why can’t this ******* puppy go back to sleeping at my mother's feet
to show she loves her as much as my brother and I,
instead of following me back up the stairs.


A clumsy dog wouldn't know to avoid that bottom step,
my mother wakes to cold feet.

A Mother who lived to be 92
She lived her life in scores of 2
Old age has taken its mount
When it comes to years, you could barely count
It was the vision of the Mother I am going home
It will be Heaven where I will roam
The Heavenly gates have opened for me
Mother repeated, Heaven, I am just so anxious to see
An Angel entered the Mother’s room
The Mother was told her hour would be soon
As the clock ticked and Death became quick
The Angel simply said, “Come and follow me”
The Mother’s spirit rose and obeyed the Angel
A lifeless body laid for all to remember
A Mother’s remembrance
Remember me being more than a Mother
Don’t think of me in being just another
Think of me in my smiles and how I stayed awhile
However, it was Grace and that’s God’s style
My life is how I lived
My appreciation in my heart in giving
My left legacy, “Live not to our own understanding, but live where you accept being learned”
Wisdom comes a long way
It will carry you for as long as you want it to stay
Today I leave you, but you are in good hands
It’s the Lord who watches throughout the land
I am on a journey to awaken on a new beginning
Don’t weep and don’t cry for me
Make me proud and be strong for all to see
Your Mother says not good-bye, but we will see each again being eye to eye.