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,

because 

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 

that white camp shirt 

and light blue striped skirt 

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