Polimom Says

She stormed through flames and fiery hell,

A sad and angry soul;

As I cried and raged behind her,

Her life my only goal.

Yet as she slipped away from me,

her hand groped out behind;

“Hold me, Mama.  Don’t let go.

This world is so unkind”

I reached for her with all my heart,

And through tremendous force of will

she stepped back from the abyss below,

to find her feet beneath her still.

She’s standing now, a fragile reed

that strengthens more each day;

No longer alone, much less afraid,

as she learns to find her way.

Her road has many twists and turns,

and the path’s not always clear;

But the light is bright upon her,

as she’s learned to fight the fear.

And me?  I stand beside again,

a quiet, solid friend.

Willing to steady, but proud to watch

her take the reins again.

-Daryl D’Angelo, 2011

I promise… to stop yelling at you. In return, you must promise to stop arguing every time you don’t get your way.

I promise… to drive you to your various medical appointments. In return, you must promise to do what the doctors and therapists have asked of you.

I promise… to give you an allowance. In return, you must promise to do your chores, as well as help when needed around the household.

I promise… to support your dietary explorations by buying, and sometimes preparing, foods nobody else in the household will eat. In return, you must promise to eat regularly and healthily.

I promise… to let you have various electronic gadgets in your bedroom. I also promise not to insist on a specific ‘bedtime’. In return, you must promise to get enough sleep.

I promise… not to nag at you. In return, you must promise to do what’s asked of you when the request occurs.

I promise to meet you halfway… if you promise to be there as well.

From almost the first day we arrived here, there’s been an enormous waterbird stalking our pond — no doubt because we have an abundance of these:

Or should I say, we had an abundance. Daily visits to the smorgasbord have reduced the supply rather markedly.

He’s a Great Blue Heron. And he’s been driving me insane. I’ve gone sneaking down to the pond TONS of times with my camera… only to see him fly off the second I start down the porch steps.

But not this morning.

I didn’t even realize he was there when I went down to the pond, either. Walked down with the hound-dog, and was nearly on top of him before I saw him.

I backed away… slowly… quietly…. and went back up to the house for the camera. Came back down, then realized I didn’t have the card in. So I backed away again! Slowly…. quietly…..

I cannot believe I finally got away with this.

So who’s stalking whom, do you think?

I’ve spent much of the last week reflecting.

On my mother, on me, on our relationship…

The deeper I look, the more clarity I find.

However painful it all is.

Just 5 days before my mother passed away — the very day she was told she was almost out of time — a plant arrived.  A lovely chrysanthemum that was about to bloom.

It was flat-out covered with buds… and when Adorable Child brought the plant downstairs to my mother, we all sat out on her brick patio for a couple of hours, trying to guess how many flowers there would be.

We settled on “hundreds”.

The card read, “Wishing you a few pleasant days” — a thought that turned out to be astoundingly appropriate.

Yet she did, in fact, have a few pleasant days left.  And while the day those flowers arrived was a tough one, it was also a day we three spent together with some enjoyment.

Pleasant.  Sometimes, that’s all one can ask for.

It’s taken me several days to be able to express myself in the way I wanted… but making these images with the empty wheelchair helped me enormously.

Time can sometimes be an enemy.   There’s often not nearly enough, and as it passes, so too do our days.

But time can also be a friend — a gentler of difficult emotions.  And so it has proven for me — because although I’ve desperately needed to express my grief through my camera, it wasn’t until yesterday that I was able to do so… or at least to begin.