happy mother’s day

to all of your mothers, to those of you who are mothers, to those of you who will be or who were. Today is kind of a bittersweet day for me, simply because my mother is not here in the flesh. I went to Walgreens after work, it was close to midnight and there was a gang of cars in the parking lot. I’m like, what? are they passing out free digital cameras in the photo lab? I go in and all of a sudden it hit me. A line of people, all creeds and colors, were standing in the Hallmark aisle of Walgreens painstakingly browsing for a card that would somehow for 3.95 or less, express how they felt about the woman who knew them best. Some bought pre-arranged flowers and others candy. I made a comment to one of the cashiers that I didn’t know Walgreens had a mother’s day midnight rush. I paid for my Totino’s pizza rolls, my Arizona raspberry iced tea and walked out of the store finding myself angry. How dare they got to Walgreens at the last minute and buy a bouquet of half-fresh flowers and a dinky old card with someone elses words of appreciation for thier mother for mother’s day. If my mother were alive I’d take her to breakfast, buy her an outfit and we’d get our hair and nails done, and I’d show her the dedication to her on the manuscript of my first published book. As I sat in my car and shut the door, I put my hand near the ignition, but couldn’t quite move it. You see, I was so angry at people who were only doing something that I had done countless times before. The card, the cereal in bed, the flowers. I remember I got creative on most mother’s days when I couldn’t afford the Walgreen’s mother’s day specials, but whatever I did, to me, could never show just how much I loved her. I found myself getting angry at those people, because for a moment, I was jealous. Jealous and angry that they had a mother here on Earth to give those flowers and candy and a card to. Someone to hug them and kiss them as they had done so many times before since leaving the womb and telling them how much she loves them. Smiling, laughing, happy. I wished that I could show my mother just one more time how much I appreciated all that she has ever done for me, and all that she would ever do for my children as their grandmother. I fought back tears. Tomorrow I am hoping that I’ll have enough for flowers for her grave. That cold stone slab in the earth can’t hug me and tell me thank you. It can’t smile with tears in it’s eyes and tell me that my poem was beautiful. Yeah, even I’m grown enough to admit that I have childish feelings. But this is one of those days made to realize you were once the child in your mother’s womb, and hopefully, she is still around for you to say thanks for all she’s done.

has anyone copped that Amel yet? I’m waiting…

Leia