Maybe
it's the soft wrinkling of her skin, or the cute little glasses perched on her
nose. Or the way she is nibbling her red licorice. Maybe it’s the way she talks to her daughter
seated next to her. Or maybe it's her gray
hair that caught my eye, this lady sitting across the aisle from me on a plane
ride home.
Just looking at them makes my heart ache for another maybe. I want another glimpse, just one. Even a “maybe” would suffice.
I feel this heaviness in my heart. It’s not her hands, or her hair. In fact, it's not her. I won't ever get another glimpse of my mother, not even a maybe. Yet if I look in the mirror, I see the maybe. I see her soft wrinkles, and the gentle beginnings of gray hair. I really do love licorice. And even though that isn't what I wanted, maybe, just maybe, if I look closely enough and am open enough, I will see her. I will see her in everything and everyone. I will see her in someone’s love for a child. Or a good song, or an emotional moment. The love of a good movie, or the gratitude for a good Pepsi.
Maybe I'll just keep looking. Some days I can, and some days I can't. Either way, I have to find a way to be okay with maybe. Yet, I know this to be true: she can see me, feel me, and even truly be right next to me. I like that kind of maybe.
All my love,
Just looking at them makes my heart ache for another maybe. I want another glimpse, just one. Even a “maybe” would suffice.
I feel this heaviness in my heart. It’s not her hands, or her hair. In fact, it's not her. I won't ever get another glimpse of my mother, not even a maybe. Yet if I look in the mirror, I see the maybe. I see her soft wrinkles, and the gentle beginnings of gray hair. I really do love licorice. And even though that isn't what I wanted, maybe, just maybe, if I look closely enough and am open enough, I will see her. I will see her in everything and everyone. I will see her in someone’s love for a child. Or a good song, or an emotional moment. The love of a good movie, or the gratitude for a good Pepsi.
Maybe I'll just keep looking. Some days I can, and some days I can't. Either way, I have to find a way to be okay with maybe. Yet, I know this to be true: she can see me, feel me, and even truly be right next to me. I like that kind of maybe.
All my love,
Beautiful...crying my heart away...""just maybe if I can just hear my mother voice again,brush her hair as she always wanted me to do...just to see my mother one more time...aaah! My God why?
ReplyDeleteI ran into someone who looked and acted just like my son...and he was hitching at a gas station after I gave him directions and he walked away I felt that he was my son Icame out of the store and was going to offer him a ride he was already gone. I don't know if I am going crazy or it was just wishful thinking but Angie it felt sooo real. Idk what it was but it just felt like it was him.
ReplyDeleteSometimes I see someone walking who walks like my son or has the same stature and I just want to run up and see if it could be him. Sometimes when my heart is truly aching a song will come on the radio that reminds me of him or a hawk will fly overhead ( he was a falconer). Its like he's saying "I'm here mom and I heard you". Like he's trying to bring me peace that he's always with me,loves me and he's ok. I love you Jesse with my whole heart!
ReplyDelete