Mom
Your house is waiting
Light is on
Your whole life is waiting for you
To get home from work
Or back from a jaunt with your friends
Your family is relaxing
You will call sometime during the week
Or stop over
You’re not gone
Your plants wait to be watered
Your TV waits to be turned to its favorite show
Your dog waits behind the tree by the door
No one knows you are gone
I wait to ask you to watch the children
To hear your groan of reluctance
Wait to hear your complaint of life
Wait for a quaint and quick visit
One of those ones that won’t interfere with your life
I am still here waiting to be
An imposition to you
A passing through
Keeping my distance
And being where I am
How you prefer it
Waiting for the next chance to confront you
To demand you
To put up with you
To wish for a mother
To appreciate you
To speak of latest happenings
To expect you
Waiting for you to see me succeed
And be proud
You are not gone
Your light is on
Your clothes are strewn about your bedroom
Your trinkets are poised and ready to bring you joy
Your bathroom soap waits for lather
Your files wait to be booted
Your will in testament waits to be completed
Your mail continues to come for you
Your life is here still
Only waiting for you,
Paused as if on video
Still framed
Hesitating
As it does any time you ever leave
It doesn’t know you are not returning
No idea
Because this
How you left
Is not you
This isn’t how you did things
This isn’t how you leave
And it just isn’t real
None of this is real
Not the copier behind the desk that I will never touch
Not the instrument inside me, giving me my ultrasound
Not the other cars on the road
Or the bank that I stop at
Not the door,
Not the kids,
Or the toothbrushes
Or the table
Or the responsibility of dinner.
Existence itself has stalled
And the moving parts of me
Are like some kind of universal comprehension
I can’t seem to reach
That you won’t be here to see the chicks
Or to see my youngest turn two
Or to see my oldest off to school
That you won’t watch us grow
And you won’t grow old
That from the tiny bit of support and family
You have stolen one large part left for me
And left me
As rudely and coldly as you have
Many other times in my life
I can’t
And your plants and clothes and mess, all of those
The ruffled blankets my brother straightened on the couch
And the dishes my sister complained about
The life you lead
And the end into which you fled
Never saw it coming
Not when she graduated,
Or you married,
Or when you contemplated
Even the other week when you talked of this happening
Was not in the context
Of impending reality
Just like it isn’t now
Your hand
Your car
Where you are
Your empty house and abandoned dog
Waiting
And the intrusive illusive reality for me
Blinking out now
Blinking in and out
But mostly staying about
And not inside
Where the pain rides
Far away from that I stay
And say
I can’t drive at night
I hope my nightmares calm down tonight
Can’t go over there at night
Overwhelming work
And slow foot to hurt
And your clients wait for you
Days go by
Jeannie sits in bed
Where she will probably die
And will never accept a replacement
Your friends mourn for you
And don’t want to believe it’s true
But I just deny
And look to your house
Could almost see you walking by the door
Walking on the old floors
Could believe you are sleeping
Waiting to wake for a new day
Could believe you are on the couch
I will walk in look left and call
Could believe you are at work
Coming home on the late shift
To your home that waits
For you
But now for me
To start the cleaning
And disposing
The meaning
Of every tiny piece you left
So painfully will I
Start that rift
Start cleaning away your life
Until there is nothing left to deal with
But my own strife
And then you will be gone
Except for pieces that we hold on
And all the pieces you held so dear
By my hands will disappear
Most I will never know
Meanings that they had to show
But until then your life waits
And I haven’t touched it
Enough to disgrace
But soon it will be inevitable
Then
You will be gone
And your life won’t wait for you
And your plants will die or be watered by others
And your dog will find
A home with your daughters
And your clothes will be gone
And your touch will move on
And the smell of your patchouli
Will linger for only so long
And then mom…