looking

hiding in a bathroom stall
just for a moment of privacy and space and quiet

my voice is shaky and the tears stream down my face
at the most mundane moments
terrible and honest and authentic
and devastating

i am trying to find a fix for this tightness in my throat
for the hard and sad that is camped in my chest

her work schedule means I sleep alone quite often
last night purposefully as she slept in the other room
I am not sure how to be in this world
I am not sure how to find a softer gentler place
so I shower and work and breathe and cry
and keep looking

distance

between what I feel and this hard reality
struggling to stay afloat and alive
above the rushing waves
it all washes over me again and again
some moments I am able to see the horizon
and others
only the water surrounding me

as I slowly unravel the story and find my own words
knocked down by knowing that her love does not transcend
that she is more than gone
I scramble to catch up  to breathe   to scoop up these pieces all around me
into a pile that makes sense   that can hold my weight

dinner

ten years ago my mom gave me a recipe book for Christmas
and she included my favorite things
her recipes for beef stroganoff and mayonnaise cake
and left plenty of spaces for me to fill in the book

I have packed and unpacked that book
moved through two states and two marriages
and added biscuits and lemon pie and cinnamon rolls
each time I see her handwriting on the cards
I hear her voice    I smell her cooking
I see her again
singing  humming  floating around the kitchen island
she adds tea to the spaghetti sauce to make it more brown
because my dad likes it that way
her hands can withstand the hottest water
and she makes the best pizza dough in the world

and tonight as I stand at my sink
cleaning up my latest beef stroganoff attempt
i miss that version of my mom
she was at the island washing dishes when I burst in from my first prom date
she was singing the sound of music when I came home from practice
she was there with dinner and questions about me and my day
she was strong and present and always working
on us     for us

this morning i stood in the guest bathroom as she showered
reminding her to wash her hair
and telling her what I remember
she would swim laps at the Jewish community center pool
her one piece speedo swimsuit   her swim cap   her goggles
she loved that pool and those laps
it was peaceful and quiet           her work for her
she laughs and says she doesn't like the water on her face

to find my way

there are dark narrow alleys
shadows
old hurts
and barriers
and bruises
all parts of me ache
as I trip through
knees scraped  palms raw

all those evenings
building my pathway
translating my feelings into a map
over and over again testing and recording
I still do not understand it all
I do not remember all the right steps     all the safe steps
and so I stumble and fall    over and over again

tonight I pause to catch my breath
to rest       to remember
I am scared of these side streets
and maybe that's the part I didn't write down

fear darkens my steps
I need to calm my pounding heart
breathe
trust that my palms will heal
trust that my heart knows the best way

birthday

her breath deepens as she slips into sleep

away from my embrace

away from me

and it's hard not to bruise

these soft tender spots cover me

and my eyes fill with tears

the fire is almost out

no more kindling    no more wood

I stack together the remenents 

hoping it is enough to burn

my own hands on my body

my own whisper fills the falling darkness

and I begin again to close the gap

what are you most excited about
and the table is blurry through the tears in my eyes
they all know my answer
most excited
most nervous
most hopefull
i think it washed over my face
big bold words on my forehead

later i heard the words tumble out of my mouth
change is hard
and i wanted so much to waive them off
like smoke hanging heavy around me
catch the letters
tear them into pieces

gift

she worked as long as she could
and did her best and still feels like maybe she is just lazy
that she could have done more
tried harder

and dad's death, she said, it broke her heart

she is scared and unsure
nervous and wrings her hands
rubs her forehead

I tried to assure her
to explain how we all wanted her
how my brother and his wife wanted to have her
bought their house planning to have her there
and how we wanted her too
and also wanted what would be best for her

she thinks she was sick and now she is better

and in these moments of clarity and real conversation
I have a glimmer of hope that maybe she is better
and I know she is not
she still knows me and wants to see me
and that is everything