Love each other to their very souls
Argue, fight, cry, and refuse to forgive
Hate springing from love
Defiance of wills
Both want to be the woman of the house
But one must lose
For the other to win
But neither wins
Because they are a part
Of each other
They must come back
Together or it all remains broken
And it can take years
To find the glue that can mend
Those broken pieces back
Into the whole they were always
Meant to be
And those years can be
So lonely
So dark
So sad
And when you’re not looking
You see a part of her
In you
A hand flutter
A shrug of the shoulder
A sudden laugh or gasp
You hear yourself
Say something
And you sound just like
Your mother
Gasp. No, not that
I am me, not her
But later you don’t mind
Not so much
You’re okay with the fact
That you love cooking
Because she taught you
That you love flowers
Because she showed you
That you love to read
Because she bought you books
And just because you’re a grown up woman
Doesn’t mean you don’t need her arms
To hold you
To comfort you
To tell you it’ll be all right
That she was your first person
Your first emissary into the world
That she knew you before you were born
That she grew you in her garden
And when you look at her
It’s with her eyes
Mothers and daughters
Complicated, crazy and yet so easy
So basic, so simple, so real
You’re just a part of her
And now you know
That that is how it is meant to be
That when you look into your own eyes
You look into hers
When you dig into dirt
It’s her hands that help you
And finally, being just like your mother is what you want to be.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom
copyright 2015
Anita Rodgers Mystery Writer 