by Marie Elena
nos·tal·gia /näˈstaljə,nəˈstaljə/ – noun.
A sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations.
I’d say that everyone looks back on their childhood fondly.
But the unfortunate truth is that is unfortunately untrue,
and that unfortunate truth means I was truly fortunate.
In spite of that wording being almost comically convoluted,
it is written through tears of genuine gratitude.
My parents were simple and loving.
They infused me with a love for simple things.
Perhaps it was the times. Just the way life was.
But I don’t think so.
I think if they were to start over,
this time would be no different.
Family would still be priority.
There would still be no such thing as coming home
to an empty house.
Music would still fill the soul.
All my love, and love me always would still grace every note
in every house we call home.
I love you. You know that.
Yes Mom. I do know that. You lived it every day,
even when Alzheimer’s threatened to erase us
like chalk on a board,
leaving only ghostly swipes.
Longing to return to childhood
for one more day. One more hug.
One more chance to watch Mighty Mouse
T-boned on the floor with Dad,
my head using his tummy as a pillow.
One more turn to curl up in Mom’s lap,
rocked in the very chair that now sits across from me
as I write this poem, longing to hear her voice.
“I love you. You know that.”
© Marie Elena, 2019
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. I miss your beautiful face and gentle love.
I like that you recognize those who were/are not as fortunate. Our world today makes us feel guilty for that. But, if every parent loved and reared children the way your parents did what a fortunate world we would have.
You once again demonstrate the power of your God-given talent in the way you convey meaning with your chosen words, Marie. For me, specifically,
“…leaving only ghostly swipes.”
Arriving at this particular line stopped me in my tracks, reading and rereading it, trying, but failing to hold back streaming tears.
Of course, today being Mother’s Day, you penned this beautiful tribute to your mother (and your father). But it brought out the longing nostalgia I have for my brother, who has been gone for nine months already. It is still very hard for me to think of him and our times spent in the brotherly bonding company of each other, but I must. Or else I will eventually be left with “only ghostly swipes.”
Has it really already been 9 months, David? That hardly seems possible. Wow. 😦
Thank you for your kind words, and sharing fully your feelings. Hugs to you, and please give Susan a belated “Happy Mother’s Day” for me. ❤