If you couldn’t sleep, chances are
you would find my mother in the kitchen
at 3 A.M. with a cup of hot chocolate
or maybe a cool glass of water depending
on the season.
If there was something on your mind
and you just couldn’t express it, you could
talk around it, walk the long road of it,
and she’d be by your side, a willing
companion on the journey.
You could retract a previous statement, change
your mind, alter your view, and it wasn’t held
against you, (although if you were prone
to interrupt too much, you’d likely be
told so repeatedly and with justification).
I remember it because it’s true, how there
was always a conversation going, even
when from opposite points of view,
things got too heated, she would say “let’s
agree to disagree.” There was always time
to pick up the conversation later, over coffee,
over tea, across lunch tables, in the kitchen
or in the car. There was always talking
and so I continue it now, pointing out a bird,
or a lovely flower, something funny, or
something pressing on my heart. Now
no one scolds me for interrupting when
I rush to share my thoughts, although
I wish she did, as I look up at the sky,
knowing she’s somewhere, listening.
Top photo: Bigstock