Mother
It's often the angle of light
that dictates what I will see, what I will feel.
Early morning light through the trees
is soothing, thoughts familiar,
like faded Polaroid images sifted through,
tenderly recalled as we all seemed to get along.
Of course, she was there, guiding,
gently reminding us, "Sisters are a blessing",
something she never had.
***
Noon displays canopy's lace-like patterns
chaotically cavorting upon the lawn,
fallen chestnuts and twigs scattered;
her hand absent, mower silent.
Recall her last words, "Be kind to one another.
Get along." Feel sad, see our disunity displayed
in speckled shadows battling for shape and form.
A walk around the yard still yields her presence;
dancing rabbits, patriotic windmill,
bronze sparrows balancing forever on bird-bath rim;
but her flowers wilt, and weeds have been mischievous
even though it's only been a week.
***
The swing will be taken down,
lawn ornaments collected, re-homed,
but evening's light is stubborn,
almost biblical in its imprint
as trees' shadows are straight and narrow,
stretch earnestly toward myself;
bring to mind the importance of mercy,
of pathways offered. I just need to settle in prayer,
listen for His voice, her voice.
Honor Mother's memory.
by Margaret Bednar, September 26, 2021
I lost my Mother suddenly at the end of last month. She fell, broke her hip, had surgery. The doctors said her bones looked great for her age of 91. She might walk with a cane, they said. Her concern was that a cane would interfere with her yard work. However, a complication arose that caused her to pass away from us within a week's time. We all know that no matter one's age, we are never prepared to lose our Mother. I have two sisters. I am the middle child. Without going into detail, the older sister has created a bit of a "stir" (to put it mildly) and I am trying to come to terms with this.
I stayed in my childhood home for a bit over two weeks. It was cathartic for me - I slept on my childhood bedroom... and sat in the kitchen that will always feel like Mother. Fifty-five years ago they built the home and she gardened and raised all kinds of animals on our little farmette. And not without a few tears, I said goodbye.
