Thirteen Ways of Looking at Mother

With thanks to Andrea Beard for Friday morning’s prompt in our Creative Life Writing Class. The prompt is based on

Wallace Stevens Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

Thirteen Ways of Looking at Mother

And we all know.... if it isn’t one thing... it’s your mother... try to be kind... try to remember the sweet parts... I’m trying... with greater or lesser success... I’m trying

I

2012

One head

Two unseeing eyes

Triangular nose

Lips, pursed over now missing teeth,

Belie once voluptuous smile

II 

I remember the particularity of that gesture

When a thing is no longer wanted

She tosses it definitively 

Lets it go almost in disgust, fingers flicking

As if the thing burns

When the thing is no longer wanted

III

Her heart beat, an anchor

Rocking,

My ear leaning into that rhythm,

Echoing down the decades

Steadying my life even now

IV

Twilight

Star light

Jedi Knight-like

Fierce, when need be

(Sigh... That would’ve been nice)

V

I lift mine eyes unto the hills

Whence my sustenance comes

From Baby’s perspective, them’s MOUNTAINS!

Flowing with milk and honey

VI

How do I love thee?

With sly cock of his wee baby head little brother adds:

2 breasts to feed me plus

2 arms to hold me plus

2 legs to walk me ‘round my kingdom plus

1 heart to guide me... makes you the 

7-liest mama in the world!

VII

Tooth Fairy

God Mother

Chief cook and

Bottle washer

Taxi and typist

Bed-tucker

Bath slosher...

MmmmmmmaaaaMmmmmmmmmaaa!

VIII

Mouth so dry she crackles when she speaks of

Changes to come in my pre-teen body

Lays out Kotex on the bed with the belt 

(I’ve already seen it at school 

Two presentations - boys and girls segregated

Sweaty-palmed fidgeting giggles equally loud from both rooms Where Sex Ed movies tell what our adults cannot)

She sets out two books: Men and Women

Rhonda and I read and wonder. 

Well,… how long DO you leave it in?

Only now do I realize how very uncomfortable Mom was

With everything about Sex Education

Wonder what it was like when she came of age in 1930?

IX

Camping trips

Writing song parodies

Adventurous cooking - Bouillabaisse, 

With unpronounceable exotic ingredients, like Safron!

Stroking my hair out of my face, moving it behind my ear

Ritual movement puts gauze in my head

Sounds of conversations fade

Falling asleep at the party, my smooth-haired head in her lap

X

Mom

Tried to be Gran’ma

Chose Bubelah as her name

(Approximation of Bubby?)

Career Woman/Bubby clash

No easy co-existing with these two.

Jealousy rising when Extra Gran’ma 

Cousin June has preferred elbow skin for 

Two year old granddaughter to play with while 

She sucks her thumb

Sorry, Ma. So easily hurt by the innocence of 

Children smelling the truth

Not much room in your heart for little ones when it’s so 

Full of YOU!

XI

Model of power and perseverance

Model of focus and purpose

Pinching pennies - the hold-over habit from 

The Great Depression

Yields surprising gifts later for your three children, Mom

Wow. How many years of shopping at St. Vincent de Paul?

How many cold nights of winter to endure rather than fix the heater?

How many trips not taken in order to leave it to the kids as

What? Restitution? Paying it forward? Therapy funds? 

Thank you. We had no idea. Clearly, you had some idea of The need.

Thank you, for that, Mom. Choosing to think you loved us.

XII

The sweetness of you feeding me applesauce, yogurt, bran, While I nurse my first born-at-home-daughter in the 

Afternoon light, trying to heal my torn-up bum.

The times you DID show up. You DID come through,

When I got the measles and couldn’t nurse my babe. 

Broken blood vessels in my eyes from coughing so hard.   Measles in my throat

Mark called. You came, when asked.

I think now, it was not because you didn’t want to, but that                 You were afraid… of

Not being enough?

XIII

You stand on the shoulders of my Gram

Who stands on the shoulders of yours

I wish I could know all the women in our lineage

Thanking each in turn for holding up her daughter(s)

To the LIGHT, as high as ever she could

So she, we ME, I could thrive

And lift my daughters as high up into the

Light as ever I can...

And that granddest daughter in all the land...

Miss D... Your Bubelah Loved thee... as best she could!

My love for you, though imperfect, is unconditional

That much I learned from Mom

Love with no strings is the BEST love!