Learning to breathe

Archive for the tag “mother”

My Mommy’s Day

It’ll be seven years this year since I last tasted your pancakes

Since I last gave you the hug you wanted

Since I last prayed with you that God would let you stay

Since daddy cried

Since Seyi emerged from boyhood and I was thrust into womanhood

Since I last saw you, the only woman I could ever love this much.

I hate to say to you that I haven’t always been your shining little angel

I hate to say that I didn’t study Law like you wanted me too

I hate to say that I gave dad an awful hard time

I hate to say that I don’t know how you would have me act towards my step mom.

I hate to say that I don’t think of you as much as I swore I would

I hate to say that I hate saying “My mom is late.”
When you are still alive to me.

If you were here today I would’ve given you a kiss on your lips

I would’ve bought you a dress

I would’ve painted your nails for you

I would’ve told you about the boy that makes my heart flutter and how I almost broke his the other day

You would’ve said “I want you to be better than me.”

“You’re a Queen.”

“You’ll marry a good man.”

You would’ve given me a hug

And I teary-eyed would’ve given you one right back.

With your eyes,

You would’ve told me that there isn’t any need for the extreme mushiness.

And you would’ve smiled.

The smile that I have mastered in the seven years you’ve been gone.

It doesn’t feel the same so all I ask, mommy, is for you to smile down at me today

Smile down at me today


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