Some Things About My Mother

Here we are all clean 
and settled in 
for an episode of Little House.

I guarantee we teared up together,
despite the deadpan face 
below the head scarf 
in home movies,
she taught me 
how to have a heart 
that got straight A's in Caring Class.

With her I've laughed my most aerobic laughter,
bent over the pages of David Sedaris in an empty house on a blow up mattress.

She gave me things
like artistic ability and
calves that in shadows
look the same width as thighs.

She made me clothes on a deadline, staying up late to finish.
I remember the thrill of finding 
a white blouse and light blue striped skirt hanging pinned to a hanger 
 the next day.

She nourished me 
with favorites like salmon ring or creamed chipped beef on toast.

To this day the volume of her sneeze surprises me.

Once she jumped rope with me and I laughed at the way her boobs bounced.
She didn't get mad.

She used to tell me my mother was a really good gal,
she'd met her at the grocery store once.

She's been known to get high 
on nature
I totally get that now, 
something about the smell of coniferous trees in the sun.

We laugh at her pronunciation of Queezenos
she calls potential POtential,
and we remember the way, 
when we were teenagers finally home for the night, 
she would come down to check on us, 
her robe clutched around her chin and her face sleepy.

We both hate snakes.

When spontaneous dancing overtakes me (or ANYONE) it is her favorite.

She knows me 
both the way she wants to know me
and probably pretty accurately.

She has definitely taken liberties 
about my perfection,

but nobody else believes in me
like she does,
so i have jokingly borrowed lyrics, 
telling her 
she's the wind beneath my wings.

But seriously,
she is.
-Me, 2013



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