When I see photographs of you,
my breath catches in my throat,
my eyes sting with the salt of tears.
I touch your face with open lips
hoping the kiss travels the distance
to where you are.
You arrived on earth in splendor.
Your epoch beauty blown across time –
the white ivory skin, black wavy hair,
a body both athletic and alluring,
from tennis match to nightclub dancing
you seemed to have it all.
I adored you Mama,
As far back as I remember you never let me down,
every time I ran to you, you would pick me up,
sooth me, place your soft, cool hand on my forehead,
gently whisper in my ear “it’s going to be alright”
I remember you singing everyday
filling our house up with Sinatra tunes,
or Nat King Cole, Broadway melodies
or family lullabies, vacuuming and singing
changing bed sheets and singing,
cooking dinner and singing, always attentive,
bright, cheerful, happily to be alive.
Until you weren’t.
Until the darkness came upon you,
a depression so pronounced you stumbled,
a hole in the heart so wide you couldn’t balance it.
All the drugs and doctors of the day
only temporarily blocked it, held it back,
until it resurfaced again, and again, and again.
But you know what Mama? It doesn’t matter.
You came here on this planet with your story.
You traveled through an opened door of time
to be exactly who you were,
in the exact second of who we were, to you.
Yes, all the songs are alive in us still.
The darkness evaporated in your ascended light.
We hum the tunes you left for us
and dance on the same hallowed ground
your feet traveled on.
When I encounter my own despair
I remember the cool hand on my forehead
“It’s going to be alright” ringing in my ear.
pattyv
Oh Patty, a touching tribute to your mother and her tragic ascent into depression.
And a redemption to hold in your heart all your memories of her happier days and to turn them into poetry.
A touching and beautiful tribute to your beautiful mother and the love you always felt for her…no matter what. Depression robs a person of so much. We deal with the fall-out as best we can, but love them all the more, just as you have done, remembering your mother’s beauty and the best of times. Happy Mother’s Day to you, Patty and that beautiful memory.
This brought tears to my eyes. So much love and forgiveness. Your mother sounds like a beautiful person who suffered herself but still left a song in your heart. Your poetry conveys so much.
This is such a poignant portrait of your mother, the good years that your remember and the sad times, which you also have to remember. The picture of your mother in her wedding gown looks so much like the one my mother (and several of her cousins) wore. I love the image of the cool hand on your forehead.
Laurie, it was truly a therapeutic release for me and my sister. So long we lived with that painful part of our lives and never really discussed it. Oh we knew we were there for her, but we never admitted to our own pain. I guess in fear we would falter. Anyway you got it exactly the way it was meant.
Poignant, chilling, eloquent, economic, evocative. Hurray! And THANK YOU for this piece of very well finished art.
I think Dale I actually ‘think’ in poetry fashion, short synopses of the subject questioned. I remember in collage thinking I can easily write a short story but I couldn’t. I accomplished it, but it sure wasn’t easy. So happy you enjoyed this.
Tales of things like depression (and other mental illnesses) bury themselves deep in my soul, as I have long fought a holding action against what Winston Churchill’s “black dog.” I find them disturbing and difficult to read. But this is beautifully told, with a glimmer of hope within.