Sarah's CircleFriends are blessings that sustain our journeys. |
I wrote this poem a while ago about my mom, and it reminded me of what Carolyn wrote about her family, so similar to mine. But she eventually found the love she needed, and I too learned to hug my kids and tell them I loved them. A week before Mom died we finally had an eye to eye talk, intense, and loving. It can come at any time, and without it, life is not rich. Mother Who Fell and Hit Hard Rock She hit a lot of hard rock before the last rock that killed her, widowed at 36 with three kids and a mortgage and only enough life insurance to pay for the funeral. Food, brought by neighbors, lasted a week, so I gathered wild berries and asparagus, and my 10 year old brother caught fish, from shore or ice hole to add protein to our diet. She grew up on a farm too far from a high school to attend, so she left home for the city at a young sixteen, on her own, to study secretary stuff, learning to be helpful to men. She worked for my dad, got pregnant, helped him get a divorce, got married, and had to watch his charm with women ruin any chance at happiness. Found out when he died he had another family, kids, bills. She called herself a horse-trader, always landing on her feet, because she was smart when no one told her she was smart. She was outspoken at a time when it wasn’t appreciated. She was tough, and taught us to be tough, when women were soft, and she only learned about receiving love later, from someone who lifted every rock she encountered. --Cynthia
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Archives
January 2022
To subscribe and receive notification of new posts, download a feed reader:
RSS Feed Reader then click the RSS Feed button above. |