Stairs

2210

I love it. I didn’t have time to finish my last entry.

And at this point, I can’t remember what I was going to say about, “Monday. One month after Mom went away."
But I will say this:

For the first couple of weeks after the Mom went, it just felt like she was at Outdoor School or having a Ladies’ Weekend at the beach. Emotionally, I felt ok. Then one day, near the end of my work day, a streak of excitement pulsed through me. Blood gushing through my veins and arteries as if they’d been sucked dry. Home to see Mom! Then, just as quickly as that pulse had surged through me, did I slam into the wall of reality. Mom isn’t at home. She’s nowhere. Wham!

Nowhere and everywhere.
I want her to be somewhere.

Right now, at this very moment, I’m fine. Last night, I was crying. Just like a baby. Whah. Crying just like I had the night before that and the night before that.

One thought. One smell. One picture. One sound. That’s all it takes. And––Whah!
I want my mommy. I want to curl up next to her. I want her to rub my back, my shoulders, my arms. I want to lay my head on her tummy. I want her to hum “Donna Donna” to me. I want, I want, I want.