Shirley T. & Me

  I stood staring at the Mother’s Day cards in Target, longing to buy one. However, my mother…my beautiful, bi-polar mother has been gone…gone for several years now.

  Saturday mornings are the worst. I miss her most on Saturday mornings, because if we hadn’t spoken all week, we’d catch up on Saturday Mornings. Now, the phone sets silent.

  On Saturday mornings, we’d gab about family, politics, fashion, and the world. We’d dream of what could be and what may have been if only…if only. If only never came.

 At the end of words, we sat in silence. In silent bliss, on sunny days by the river, we nibbled on her grape & chicken salad dolloped on chucks of freshly baked bread.

 I miss her smile, her profile, her artistically painted, pretty face…and the long string of pearls folded into the cleavage of her large bosom... content…we sat content in the electric current between us.

  Occasionally, I even miss my mother’s flamboyant anger. Gigantic and overwhelming, it reached hundreds of miles through the telephone receiver to gob-smack me between the eyes.

  But silence is a gift we cherished. In calm we could feel one another’s heartbeat and hear the breath rise and fall in our chests. Our silence…sedately charming…delivered on pulsing melody…opened our eyes and our hearts to each moment pealed back by a whisper…as we studied the flowers, birds, and budding trees surrounding us. I pray her heaven is as glorious as those lazy afternoons.

 Her middle name was “Danger,” and mine, “Forgiveness;” and silence was our salvation. 

Richmond, VA. Devoted student and follower of Life In Ten.

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