Two Years

My mother died two years ago today. Two years. I woke up not feeling too bad about it. I actually thought, "Hey, this isn't so bad today." But I've gotten worse as the day's gone on. No surprises, I guess. It's been a long couple of years with a lot of things happening, some good, some bad, a lot I don't want to go through again. I was trying to work earlier but just kinda crashed. Again, no surprises. Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day Da Man's father died (forty-one years ago). The anniversary of his grandmother's death is ten days after my grandmother's. Days we'll never forget.

Soon after my mother died, Ron posted this poem for me, and it still speaks to me.

Footwork

When Nijinsky died, they cut open his feet
to find the secret of his dance. His bones,

it turns out, were like anyone’s.
With each step, our heels sink that much

deeper into earth. We have
nowhere else to go. Once my mother

crossed and recrossed an entire field
to find my sandal. Now she’s gone;

she left her darning.

: Jody Gladding, Stone Crop