“No creative work, it seems to me, can be accomplished unless people sometimes have quiet and peace around them … ”—Eleanor Roosevelt
Peace and quiet
Have not been mine
Inside my head
For the past several days
As yesterday was
The (eighth) anniversary of
My beloved mother’s death
(At the age of 100)
And as you shall see in
A story down the road
My heartfelt friendship
With my mother
Began to Unravel
Bewildering
Both of us
Ever so sadly in
Ways that had devastated
Mother and daughter after
The sudden death of
My beloved father saw
His adored wife
Understandably
Too grief struck to
Fend for herself
For the first time
In her entire life
At the vulnerable age of 87
And so, over
The first two years of
My precious mother’s
Widowhood
I was with her—
Every day
Calling her
Our family treasure—
Suggesting that
In real time
Mom and I
Had had no clue
As to how or when
Spontaneous eruptions of
Subconscious insecurities
Which can injure
Loving relationships beyond
Repair, arose, separating us
Unconsciously into
Opposing camps, which
Pained both her heart and
Mine ever so deeply as
The personal perceptions of
Both individuals remained
In the dark, ignorant of
Identifying with
The hungry mind’s
Existential need to
Experience
Emotional growth spurts
At every stage of life
And only if
The difference between
A close friendship
And emotional enmeshment
Is understood
And mutually recognized
As being excessively unhealthy
While both individuals are
Still alive, that’s when
A heartfelt relationship
Can begin to heal for real
👩🏻Annie
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