Mother’s Day

ImageShe brings us to life with love and screams and sustains our bodies with her own.  She wipes, bandages, combs, and cuddles, and cuts off crusts.  She has the soothing voice of the nurse, the methodical voice of a teacher, the barking sergeant’s voice, and the tired weepy voice of one who has been stretched too thin.  We huddle terrified as she clashes with Dad, follow eagerly as she negotiates our groceries, laugh when she teaches us jokes and how to joke.  She was the one who corrected college essays as easily as she baked cookies.  She resented the flippancy of our individuation from her as surely as she prayed for it.  Now in years going by we send two dollar paper cards that are unfamiliar with her work and speak nothing of her worth, and she says thank you for remembering.