The last time I saw my mother was fifteen years ago. We were at the park she was watching me swing a few yards away. It was a fairly warm fall day. The excitement I felt as she watched me swinging high and then higher I’ll never forget.
The leaves started to blow with a warm fall breeze. The light so bright shining past the twigs, and the leaves still trying to hang with all their strength from the trees. The crinkling crisp sound the leaves make as others walk by as I’m enjoying the swinging while Mother sits silently and watches me is all enthralling. Other kids are playing nearby but I am not interested in playing with them since this is supposed to be a quick park visit. We never really get a chance to come out and play. She’s usually away and works all day.
As I am tiring from swinging I’m wanting to play in the leaves on this oddly warm fall day. I stop the swinging hopping off the swing as it is in mid throw. Into the leaves I go “Crinkle, Crinkle, Crinkle”. The feeling of the crushing of leaves under my weight and the smell of the dirt mixed with browning yet still green grass is a sense of wonder. Freshly ground into my nose on fall days when the leaves blow I’ll never forget that innocent swinging feeling. No.
But you see this was also the last time I saw my Mother. Last I had looked she was reading a book. Occasionally glancing up at me and the blue skies above she graces me with a loving motherly look. The reminiscing is fine and grand especially since innocence is in such demand. However, that won’t gain me back that last long stand. In a blink of my eyes I was playing, having fun rolling on the land. The land that held the weight of my foot, stomping those leaves into the dirt. It was the last time I saw her and it isn’t so good.
I rose my head up from where I then stood. She was gone, where did she go. To this day I’ll never know. No notes, no calls, it’s like she wanted to leave. So you see those leaves, fall days and warm breezes make me wonder if I’m not needed. Nobody cares, not even her. Why should I care then? If I said I didn’t, it would be a lie. I don’t want to die living this cry. This cry for Mother, I want her close by. All the frustrations and complications of all the time flying by. It’s really not her I want in my life. I want that closeness I can only get if I am not closed. That acceptance that love when you look in the mirror. It’s deep within and the image is now clear. I can and I will remember whats true. The person who lost me was really just you Mother.