I was watching my mother from behind,
her feet barely touching the ocean
that was taking her son out in waves.
His body rose up and down
while salty, sandy water
rippled over her toes.
Her screams were the ones
I’d heard my whole life.
When my aunt
tried to teach her to swim
my mother held
on to the side of the pool,
her body soaked with humiliation.
“Oh, Charlotte,” my aunt moaned,
“Put you face in the water.
It won’t kill you.”
It was on the mountains
my mother felt safe
even with the bears,
wildcats and snakes.
Me and my brother
would run ahead
of her and my dad
on a trail where
she would call out
when we went too far.
At our kitchen window,
she would hold me,
and we would watch
an approaching tornado
wiggle and hop its way
across fields.
It was the water
that left her unable to breathe.
It was like when her father
held her under.
Like when her mother
snuffed out her dreams.
My grandfather would say,
“Your mother was always drifting.
She couldn’t be situated.”
I see her now.
My mother holding the garden hose,
standing by an inflated shell.
She waits and watches as I
splash and laugh.
Her face is drawn
and her tears fall.
Enough to fill my pool.
1 comment:
My mother died on 10/29/2006. The next night my wife was sitting down in the den and I was up in the kitchen when she yelled up the stairs at me, "Where's this smell coming from?" I yelled back down at her, "What smell? What does it smell like?" She answered, "Perfume! There's the very strong smell of perfume down here, where's it coming from?" Then she began hollering, "Hurry up, come down here so you can smell it before it’s gone!!" It took me 20 or 30 seconds to stop what I was doing in the kitchen. But I got it all put down and walked downstairs and walked over to where she was sitting on the couch and I took a BIG whiff of the air; and sure enough the air was THICK with the smell of perfume. And in the instant that I smelled it, I knew it was the perfume that my mother wore when I was a child because it instantly brought back one very vivid and one vague memory from my childhood. I stood there seeing that vivid memory in my mind and feeling the emotions and feelings of that memory for maybe one or two seconds at the most and then I wanted to smell that perfume again. So I took a second big sniff of the air and it was TOTALLY AND COMPLETELY GONE!! IT HAD DISAPPEARED! Strong smells don't VANISH instantly!! So, that was either my mother, or something connected with her life saying ~"Hi"~, I'm still here! I still exist! I'm just on ~"the other side"~!
My mother was in a nursing home for 4 years before she died and she constantly talked about going home. About wanting to go home. The street address of the only home she ever owned was 1029! She died on 10/29/06! Also from the age of 17 to 22, she was a Discalced Carmelite Nun in Morristown, NJ.
Go to YouTube(dot)com and type "The Curtain Is Moving Again" in the search box. You will see the den where all this happened! Here is one link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mCAlAQy5aiU Again, read my free online ~"book"~ ~"DIVINE 9/11 INTERVENTION"~ A TRUE STORY! @ www.yumpu.com/en/document/view/15031387/road-map-of-events-hume-fogg-tech/279 and www.LoveGodIsLove.org. I am also @ www.Facebook.com/a77white
Here’s a little more about her passing.
Like I said, my mother was a Discalced Carmelite Nun from the age of 17 to 22 in Morristown, NJ. A week or two before she died I asked her why she quit, gave up, stopped being a Nun. Her answer was "I didn't." I didn't ask any more questions about it.
A week later, I found, “XXX-999-444 ?” had been left on my caller ID three hours after she died. Never in my life have I seen a “999” prefix. “999” and “444” are very significant to this story. I called it; it had been disconnected with no information available.
In the nursing home she often talked about ~“going home”~. The street address of the only home she ever owned was ~1029~.
~ Thank you again for being a friend. If you have any comments or questions, I am here. ~“Love is the answer.”~ ~“God is love.”~
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