"You were, and are, the coherence of all that which never cohered in me..."
Acute & Chronic(les) by Otsana – IV – Coherent incoherence of memory
I remember you, child of mine, and yet, I do not remember being a mother. Strata of time, of being, of perception, of convolution and of clarity, overlap and adhere, then secede and cede to unique, newly created, yet – somehow – reshaped cores of intangible tangibility – my core, a body hollow of a dream, your core, the dream never fully embodied and yet, amazingly real. You were, and are, the coherence of all that which never cohered in me – your convergence in my womb never converged on my lap, the milk you infused into my breasts never came to be transfused through my nipples, your touch within me never coalesced as my touch upon you. This is how I remember you: Whole, child of mine whose features I have never seen – as vividly as I do not remember being a mother in these features of mine which I see, fragmented, each and every day. You were, and are, in spite of me, the ever coherent incoherence of this memory of what I did not come to be, in spite of you – forever child of my being… a mother that never was.
Some, I am sure, wish to have had a mother that could say that kind of words, but then again, nothing was lost, they have yours, to make them know that good mothers are out there. Even a mother that never was.
Beautiful said.
Georg
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