My mother and I had a complicated relationship fraught with struggle, clouded by a painful past. Writing this poem helped me to cope with her death. I hope that others may find comfort and solace in these words.

I lost my mother yesterday.
She spun her way out to the cosmos where
Sister held her and showed her the way.

I lost a sense of her being in the world,
the door to her had closed and I stood on
the other side, knowing I could not follow.

I must pick up my life without her, feel
the loss of her presence, remind myself
she is dead every time I think to call.

Today, I am reminded that she once had lived.
She was a lively woman, quick to anger,
but just as quick to joking and to laughter.

Why was she so cruel at times? I have often asked.
I have learned, as her hand slipped from my grasp,
I never understood her, never really knew her.

She was an enigma, a promise of being home
when school was out, and a fear of the silence in
her strange mood at times.

Where have you gone to, Mother?
A beautiful garden? Or, do you sit by a river
as it flows past your spirit light?

Forgiveness comes easy to those who
let that river flow, without
dams to block its natural course.

Compassion, like cool water across my heart,
catches me up and I cry for you,
my mother, my dear mom.

You made terrible mistakes and nearly
fatal choices, recalling where we lay in
the ruins of my trust in you.

Oh, Mother, I yet love you,
for you were my only,
my one and only Mom.

No matter the pain, the fear, and
disappointment, my grieving heart can
only love. That is all it knows.

So, I gather you up into my hands and
give you away to the sky, setting you free at last,
like leaves, to dance upon the wind.