My mother and I never had a typical Mom/Daughter relationship. We were friends for a while, and then not, and then were, and then I cared for her in her final years. Because we tout honesty here at the Twisted H as part of your wellness path, I’m going to share a poem I wrote recently in honor of my mother. Don’t take this wrong, she was my mother, and I loved her, there are many things about her that I respected and appreciated, that I’ll go into eventually. Today I’m focused on the negative, I’m sharing it, so I can let it go. No hate mail please. Much Love, Monamie
“When She was near” Orginally by Poet: Nixon Waterman
My mother’s heart was somewhat broken,
“And I a little girl” – Poet: M. Holman
And her kisses smelled of nicotine.
And, while the world was full of storm,
Her lap was full of dream.
Her arms and breast were filled with lingering sadness,
Her smile often was full of malice.
And life wasn’t always dear when she was near
And I a little girl.
The world is full of golden gifts.
I can truly see that now.
Yet my entire soul sighs
at both the trauma of the long agoes
And the recent goodbyes.
I am too weary of the scars
That fill the lives of so many;
I certainly would not be a little child
Within those arms again.
For my mother’s heart was hardened,
by the circumstances she was in.
And her displays of love far and few between, back then.
And, as the world was full of storm.
She was full of stride.
She’d made her bed, she’d lay in it.
I never saw her cry,
And life wasn’t always dear when she was near
And I a little girl.
