Missing Mama

Some months it's worse than other,
because I can talk to Mom,
but she can't talk to me.

I miss her voice,
I miss her love,
and I mess her encouragement.


I also posted this poem in the journal,  Writing in Snow, under the folder  Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Roses and Chocolates: Memories of My Mother

Mama loved roses:
her favorite blossoms were red,
and she like rich dark chocolates.

 

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My Mother's Prayer Book

I open Mom's prayer book
I leaf through it
to find
Mama's favorite prayers.

Memories flow through my mind
of Mama
setting in her room,
reading prayers
before she left the house
to go to work
or shopping.

This poem is also posted in the journal Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com port. I am Prosperous Snow.

Missing Mama

Fiḍál (Grace), 13 Jamál (Beauty) 174 Badi - Tuesday, May 9, 2017 CE about 4:51 PM  Pacific Daylight Time 

Five days until Mother's Day 2017. It's been over four years since Mom passed away. My mother's spirit left her physical body on November 29, 2012. The last Mother's Day I celebrated with Mama was Sunday, May 13. It wasn't much of a celebration because Mom was afflicted with Alzheimer's disease. I don't know if she even realized it was Mother's Day. 

On the morning of May 13, 2012, I made coffee and served Mom chocolates with her meal. Someone (I think one of my brother's or family friend) sent her roses. Roses were Mom's favorite flower, she especially liked red roses. We spent the day at home because it was difficult for me to get Mom in and out of the car to go out to eat. We watched television and talked. To this day I don't know whether Mom knew if I was her mother or daughter. 

I miss Mama so much. Everytime I see an ad for a Mother's Day present, I want to cry. Normally ad on websites or sent to my e-mail box don't bother me. The exception is Mother's Day ads. Mom isn't here for me to give her roses or chocolates. She isn't here to hear me say "I love you, Mama" and then kiss her on the cheek. I can say prayers for the departed. I can talk to Mom in my mind, but she isn't physically here to listen to what I have to say.  

I know that Mom is in the Abha Paradise. I know she no longer suffers the effects of Alzheimer's Disease. Alzheimer's affect the brain and not the soul. I still cry because it hurts so much that Mama isn't here to celebrate Mother's Day or any holiday we always celebrated. 

Seven Days and Counting

Jalál (Glory) 7 Masá’il (Questions), 173 BE - Saturday, December 17, 2016 AD about 1:25 PM Pacific Standard Time 

Seven days and counting not to Christmas, but to my birthday. On Saturday, December 24, I will celebrate my 70th birthday. I have no plans to do anything except stay home and write or sing Happy Birthday to myself. I won't be alone because I have a roommate. I don't think we'll make a big deal of my birthday. I'm not sure I want to make a big deal of it. 

I'm not precisely sure how I feel about turning seventy years old. It isn't like I've been seventy years old before. I usually don't make a great event of any of my birthdays.  Perhaps I'll revise my bucket list, after all I don't know how many more years I have on this world. I would like to live to be at least one hundred years old; however, I know that the unexpected happens and a person never really knows how long they will be on this plane of existence. 

My mother wanted to live to be one hundred, but she died in 2012 at the age of 91. She lived a good life up until the last couple of years of her life. Mom died of Alzheimer's disease which stole all her joy of living and her memory. The last few months of her life was hard on her and the entire family.  I miss Mama so much. I would have liked to have celebrated my 70th birthday with her. I celebrated 65 birthdays with Mama, she died only a few weeks before my 66th birthday. I won't celebrate alone this year, but I won't celebrate it with Mama. 

Day Six without Mama

Kamál (Perfection), 12 Qawl (Speech), 169 BE – Tuesday, December 4, 2012 6:30 AM Pacific Time

I count the days Mom has been gone. This is day six without her. This morning I woke up listening for her voice calling my name. Mom’s soul passed into paradise on the morning of Thursday, November 29, 2012. I do not know the precise time, but I do know it was later in the morning.

On the morning of Friday, November 30, 2012, the company that provided them picked up the oxygen compressor, wheelchairs, walker, and hospital bed. Then on Friday afternoon, we planned the funeral, which will occur on Thursday, December 6. Perhaps then, the reality of the situation will hit me.

Day six without Mama, I go through periods of numbness and tears. I wake up at night listening for her voice or for the sound of the oxygen compressor echoing through the house. I wonder what I will do will out her and then I realize that I will survive. My mother survived her birth. My mother gave birth to survivors. I am my mother’s daughter and I will survive.

Day six without Mama and I remember that this will be the first birthday I celebrate without her. I was born on December 24, 1946; on December 24, 2012, I will be 66 years old. I will celebrate my birthday because birthdays are celebrations or commemorations of joyful exuberance or at least without tears. I miss Mama.