For Mom
They sat in the stony silence of their mutual disappointment. They were together but alone. Both were lost deep within the channels of their own minds. They were each remembering separate pieces of their lives. Though they searched, neither woman could find a memory that did not include the other.
The two struggled to find a word to express their deep feelings, but there didn’t seem to be one. Never had there been such a mixture of love, hate, bitterness, forgiveness, and joy between two people. A stranger passing by would have noted the distance between them and thought they despised one another. In some small way, they did, but they also loved each other deeply. Even a quick glance at the pair proclaimed how different they were.
One was young and pretty. Her eyes glowed with excitement, passion, and a zest for life. The girl had tried and done everything, and she was still apt to chase after dreams. She was immediately likeable, and a five minute conversation with her would reveal that she had experienced much more in her years than the tired, older woman beside her. A lot of the great things she’d done had been to win the approval of this woman. Somehow, it had never seemed to be quite enough. The young girl glanced over at the lady, and for a brief moment she was filled with contempt for her. Then as she studied the sleepy eyes, rough hands, and worried wrinkles and creases, that feeling dissolved into intense love.
The older woman was very worn but still had a faint glow about her. She was proud of the girl beside her. She had always loved this child more than anything else, and she still did. She’d worked her entire life to give her all that she’d never had. She knew she’d spoiled her, but she wasn’t sorry. After all the woman had done for this girl, she still felt it wasn’t enough. She remembered the times they’d had to go without, and she wondered if there was something more she could have given her. She also wondered what it would take to make this selfish girl appreciate her.
The woman pulled the old car up to the college. The battery would probably die before she made it home, but she didn’t tell the girl this. This was the moment they’d both worked so hard for. She was sending her youngest daughter off to college. This was the only one of her three children to make it this far. She had always marveled at the girl’s ambition, but had never told her so.
Now, she was free. They both were. Each was free of protecting the other, of their shared burdens, and of their sometimes smothering closeness. The girl was scared. For years, she’d dreamed of being free of this woman. This was the woman who’d held her back. This was the woman who was the cause of all her problems. This was the woman she’d taught to be a mother. This was the woman she adored. Now, it was finally time, and she’d have given anything to put their separation off a bit longer.
Her mother was struggling to fight back tears. They were tears that pleaded to be wept. She refused to shed them. This was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it… to not have to take care of the girl, to do things alone, to buy and do for herself.
Slowly, the girl opened the car door and got out. Her mother rushed over to help her with the bags.
“I can handle it,” the girl assured her mother.
The weathered lady nodded and smiled as her last child turned to go. She headed towards the car, pretending as though she didn’t care. Her daughter bit her lip and made her way toward the college.
Halfway to the entrance, she was overcome with a new feeling. She didn’t know what it was exactly. She only knew it was intense. It was so strong and overwhelming that she dropped her bags and ran toward her mother. The older woman must have been struck with the same emotion because she also turned and ran. The two met in the middle and embraced. They held each other tighter than they ever had and allowed the tears to come. Both uttered words the other could not hear. They held on to each other with all they had, determined never to let go.
They sat in the stony silence of their mutual disappointment. They were together but alone. Both were lost deep within the channels of their own minds. They were each remembering separate pieces of their lives. Though they searched, neither woman could find a memory that did not include the other.
The two struggled to find a word to express their deep feelings, but there didn’t seem to be one. Never had there been such a mixture of love, hate, bitterness, forgiveness, and joy between two people. A stranger passing by would have noted the distance between them and thought they despised one another. In some small way, they did, but they also loved each other deeply. Even a quick glance at the pair proclaimed how different they were.
One was young and pretty. Her eyes glowed with excitement, passion, and a zest for life. The girl had tried and done everything, and she was still apt to chase after dreams. She was immediately likeable, and a five minute conversation with her would reveal that she had experienced much more in her years than the tired, older woman beside her. A lot of the great things she’d done had been to win the approval of this woman. Somehow, it had never seemed to be quite enough. The young girl glanced over at the lady, and for a brief moment she was filled with contempt for her. Then as she studied the sleepy eyes, rough hands, and worried wrinkles and creases, that feeling dissolved into intense love.
The older woman was very worn but still had a faint glow about her. She was proud of the girl beside her. She had always loved this child more than anything else, and she still did. She’d worked her entire life to give her all that she’d never had. She knew she’d spoiled her, but she wasn’t sorry. After all the woman had done for this girl, she still felt it wasn’t enough. She remembered the times they’d had to go without, and she wondered if there was something more she could have given her. She also wondered what it would take to make this selfish girl appreciate her.
The woman pulled the old car up to the college. The battery would probably die before she made it home, but she didn’t tell the girl this. This was the moment they’d both worked so hard for. She was sending her youngest daughter off to college. This was the only one of her three children to make it this far. She had always marveled at the girl’s ambition, but had never told her so.
Now, she was free. They both were. Each was free of protecting the other, of their shared burdens, and of their sometimes smothering closeness. The girl was scared. For years, she’d dreamed of being free of this woman. This was the woman who’d held her back. This was the woman who was the cause of all her problems. This was the woman she’d taught to be a mother. This was the woman she adored. Now, it was finally time, and she’d have given anything to put their separation off a bit longer.
Her mother was struggling to fight back tears. They were tears that pleaded to be wept. She refused to shed them. This was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it… to not have to take care of the girl, to do things alone, to buy and do for herself.
Slowly, the girl opened the car door and got out. Her mother rushed over to help her with the bags.
“I can handle it,” the girl assured her mother.
The weathered lady nodded and smiled as her last child turned to go. She headed towards the car, pretending as though she didn’t care. Her daughter bit her lip and made her way toward the college.
Halfway to the entrance, she was overcome with a new feeling. She didn’t know what it was exactly. She only knew it was intense. It was so strong and overwhelming that she dropped her bags and ran toward her mother. The older woman must have been struck with the same emotion because she also turned and ran. The two met in the middle and embraced. They held each other tighter than they ever had and allowed the tears to come. Both uttered words the other could not hear. They held on to each other with all they had, determined never to let go.
1 comments:
Hello, I just thought you might like to know that for as young as you still are (I'm 42), you are truly an amzing writer. You can draw your reader in, make them feel all sorts of things about themselves and their experiences, without ever actually telling them what YOUR exact experience is talking about!
I also have my degree in journalism and am currently working on a book of my own, so please believe me that I can recognize talent...and you have it!
Robin
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