A Poem for Mother’s Day
by Linda Rodriguez
Paffi Flood was unable to post today, so Linda Rodriguez is substituting for her.
As we approach Mother’s Day, the airwaves are filled with commercials for gifts for mothers and suggestions for special ways to “spoil Mom” and celebrate this May holiday. You can’t escape them. So, this poem is for all those who, like me, have lost their mothers and find the day’s celebrations bittersweet.
CONVERSATION WITH MY
MOTHER’S PICTURE
MOTHER’S PICTURE
You and Dad were entirely
happy here—
happy here—
you in purple miniskirt,
white vest and tights
white vest and tights
(you always wore what was
already too young
already too young
for me), Dad in purple
striped pants,
striped pants,
a Kansas State newsboy’s
cap
cap
made for a bigger man’s
head.
head.
You both held Wildcat
flags and megaphones
flags and megaphones
to cheer the football
team who,
team who,
like the rest of the
college, despised you
college, despised you
middle-aged townies,
arranging for their penicillin
arranging for their penicillin
and pregnancy tests and
selling them
selling them
cameras and stereos at
deep discount.
deep discount.
But you were happy
in this picture, before
they found
they found
oat-cells in your lungs.
After the verdict, he
took you to Disneyland,
took you to Disneyland,
this man who married you
and your five children
and your five children
when I was fifteen. He
took you cross-country
took you cross-country
to visit your family,
unseen
unseen
since your messy divorce.
He took you to St. Louis
and Six Flags Over Texas
and to Topeka
and to Topeka
for radiation treatments.
I don’t think he ever
believed
believed
you could die. Now he’s
going
going
the same way. And none of
us
us
live in that Wildcat town
with the man
with the man
who earned his “Dad”
the hard way
the hard way
from suspicious kids and
nursed
nursed
your last days. For me,
this new dying
this new dying
brings back yours,
leaving me only this image
leaving me only this image
of you both cheering for lucky winners.
Published in Heart’s Migration (Tia Chucha Press, 2009)
That was beautiful. I, too, am celebrating this day without my mom.
I'm sorry, LD. It makes all the build-up to Mother's Day hard, doesn't it?
<3 Thank-you, Linda.