Rain, isn’t that how all bad days start of?
This one was no different.
We walked down the street toward the homeless shelter.
We walked in and went straight to our one bedroom living space.
She complained that her stomach hurt and she was dizzy.
We didn’t listen; we thought it was just the dinner talking.
She asked me to get the trashcan.
I took it to her.
She puked, and puked, and puked once more.
Our neighbor called 911, and I held her hand as she puked again.
The ambulance arrived and she looked me in the eye.
Watch over this place when I’m gone.
The medics to her away and I returned to the bedroom.
I waited in the room until I was summoned out.
Words all at once they seemed to garble together.
Warm tears streamed down my face.
I would never see her again.
And yet she didn’t feel gone.
It was almost as if she was still with me.
But that feeling soon faded.
And I was left with an empty hole.
Others have come along and tried to fill it.
No one succeeds.
That hole will never fill.
It will always remain.
A grim reminder of the one I once loved.
And I will forever remember her.
For she, was my mother.