As I sit here reading a book
i am suddenly reminded of my mother
she sits at the kitchen table reading
wearing thick framed glasses
the sight as a child filled with me sadness
what were those books ?
romantic novels probably
the unhappiness and loneliness of my mother
surrounded her like a soft grey light
i felt i was somehow responsible for her plight
even though nothing was ever said
my father had caused this pain and
his name was never mentioned
i was like a piece of blotting paper
my heart absorbing the pain of her sadness
a trait i have carried all of my life
if i open my heart to someone
i feel their pain sometimes more intensely
than they do themselves


loved the blotting paper metaphor!
ReplyDeletePoignant thoughts. As the years go by, I empathize more with my own mom who long since passed. But like most mothers the last thing she would want is for me to be sad.
ReplyDeleteA quick glimpse into the heart and soul of our Rall .... this is intense .. and beautifully rendered.
ReplyDeleteA touching tribute. I love the simple honesty, moving in its directness and restraint.
ReplyDeleteI can see the images here so clearly, as well as feel the wounding and confusion of the subject. We don't outgrow some wounds as much as learn how to live with them.
ReplyDeleteI identify with your sadness for your mom. It’s only now, six years after Mama died, that I can say she was a happy, positive woman despite all the disappointments, sadness, and insecurities she experienced.
ReplyDeleteA lot of us can relate to this.
ReplyDelete