AS HEAVEN CALLS YOUR NAME

Today it struck me.

Finally

I realized that you will never again

see a sunrise or sunset

nor the diamond-studded night sky

nor feel the wind on your face

nor smell the wetness of the earth

after a summer rainstorm

nor hear the birds chirping merrily

in a canopy of spring green.

Today it struck me.

Finally

I realized that you will never again

sit with me at a table and break bread

nor tell me that you love me

nor update me on what you’ve been doing

nor gossip with me about siblings

not present to defend themselves

nor simply criticize me, sometimes harshly,

as only you knew how.

Today it struck me.

Finally

I realized that you will never again

lose yourself in a massive jigsaw puzzle

nor read a good book

nor complete a cryptic crossword

nor savour the chewy saltiness of biltong

or the sweetness of wholenut chocolate

nor knit another pair of bootees or jacket

for your latest great-grandchild.

Today it struck me.

Finally

I realized that you will never again

be a vibrant and competent woman

nor be a loving mother or mother-in-law

nor be a caring sister or friend,

nor be a grandmother or great grandmother

to those who may still bless our lives

nor share all our hopes, our fears and tears

then bless us with your wisdom.

Today it struck me.

Finally

I realized that I will never again

be able to hear your voice

nor touch your hand nor give you a hug

nor fight furiously with you

nor tell you what you wanted to hear

as opposed to what I should have said

nor simply relish the good food

you placed before me at a meal.

Today it struck me.

Finally

I realized the end of our road has come.

You will move on now whilst I,

flesh of your flesh and blood of your blood,

having had you somewhere in my life

for every second that I have drawn breath—

no, even since my conception—

I… I must go on without your presence.

Realization dawns, and my heart cracks,

then shatters into a million pieces,

as heaven calls your name.

I’m sorry I took you for granted.

Godspeed, dearest mommy, till we meet again.

In loving memory

of

Elaine Marion Potgieter

9 June 1925 - 5 August 2010

I wrote this the night before my mother passed on, as my heart choked me and unbearable grief coursed down my cheeks.  The knowledge that my mom had reached the end of her road was just too much for me to bear.  I am posting it here in honour of my mother who was an exceptional woman.  My greatest regret is that I didn't tell her how exceptional she actually was. MHDSRIP.


(All rights reserved)