02 August 2011

The is and the were.

Because the world is unknown to me, I wonder, if we go to Joshua Tree, to a place that I do not know, to a landscape that I can only dream up, will I find her there, waiting for me? I live in a world where my mother was and I am. We, none of us know our fates (her favorite joke? Want to make G-d laugh? Tell him your plans.) but it is conceivable that I will live longer without my mother than with her. The tense of her being has changed, she has passed, they say, she was, they say. She is I say! But that will slip away, and every night I fall deep asleep, for every day I say, over and over and over again, she is dead, my mother is dead.

Z. told me tonight "I am so sorry about your mother." And he meant it, I know, with a full heart, but how do I explain that I stand, thirsty, at the bottom of a cavernous cavern, and his words are a drop of water falling from heights that I cannot see. No one should know this feeling, until the knowing is unavoidable, but oh! oh! what I wish I did differently while I still had the chance.

1 comment:

mommanels said...

No one's words will make your sadness go away. Time will allow the scar tissue to grow over the wound. Time will minimize your thirst. The solace you seek is within you. When you are ready, it will glimmer out. You will know this, just as you know when she is next to you. God's light and love shines down upon you.

Jezebel, you are on a long journey. Your words show you have insight into yourself and what is happening. Listen to your heart.

Posted by a friend.