A Mother’s Love

I carry the baggage of her life around with me everywhere I go. It is a heavy burden and although I have often dreamed of setting it down and walking away, I do not, I persevere. She loved me I know but that love is the heaviest piece of luggage that I carry. It drags me down so far that I no longer go in large bodies of water for fear it will drag me down to the bottom and I will drown with her love. I often wonder what will happen with all of her bags when I die. I look at the beautiful face of my daughter and I pray that she has the strength that I do not and throws these bags on the trash heap of the past where they belong.

I never want to be an adult or once there were two, now there is one.

She sits in a chair on the front porch each evening watching everyone go by. She never smiles or says hello. it was the other one who was friendly. It was the other one who would greet you as you walked by asking about your day, making you smile. They would sit there for hours gossiping and laughing and enjoying the evening together. Once there were two chairs on that porch, now there is only one.