" I love having a Mamma"
quips my quick-witted child
and I cannot see the road ahead anymore,
for the tears that come unbidden
I, bratty inside
stamp my foot, mentally though
I did too, until recently
to talk to, laugh with
to read between the lines of her stories
to guess what bothered her today
or who
or what she yearned for,
just out of reach
that grief comes in trickles somedays
on others, as waves crashing through
for just a moment or two though,
rations of sadness
that's all I am allowed
as a mother myself,
with jobs and roles
the mask musn't slip
"I live for thee", she'd quote often
today it is my mantra
cursed as she was
to smile through my tears
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