Twenty-five years since my mom died
One hundred seasons passed
Thousands of miles traveled
How far have I come?
I was five years old when she died
She was thirty when they found the cancer
I had five years with her; she had five with her father
If I had five years left, what would I leave behind?
An empty bed, a mountain of debt, a lonely dog
The road seemed longer to build up to this
But each bend it’s own journey
Can we measure the distance traveled?
Or is each step the culmination.
Throw the numbers out the window;
It cannot be measured in a cup,
Weighed on a scale,
Folded into the dough,
Wrapped in rice paper and put on a shelf.
Memories and burning embers fade
But if I remember anything about my mother
It’s that she was here, once, and she loved me
What more can I give the world?
-April 22, 2013
P.S. Don’t forget April is National Poetry Month