call
~ for Mom ~
it seems …
like yesterday
and it seems like forever …
I can see them clearly
I can feel the soft wrinkles of skin
her little hands -
clutching the round disc
skin as thin as tissue paper
veins winding their purple-ish way
across bone and tendon
not always so delicate …
I think of all the miracles those small
appendages worked -
all the wonders taken part and witnessed
many times for the benefit of my
own rather undeserving hide …
almost obsequious in their regard
(when it came to me, anyway)
unspoken, that bond
since before time,
at least in my awareness of it
and that alliance has been my salvation
more times than I can
put number to …
that amazing woman -
small in stature, yet anything BUT in
energy and spirit -
saw the activity of her sweet hands shrink with
her height and strength
until she could no longer perform all
but the simplest of tasks …
oh, her mind stayed as clear as a glacial rill,
sharp and witty and creative
and the spark in her eyes
always shined bright
but moons and miles took their toll
and I became her legs and
arms and ears …
it was a job that blessed me
beyond imagination
and one I see now that she
trained me for …
so …
while her small hands came to lack the
vigor for most daily tasks
she could still press the call button on
the little disk that hung around her
neck like a pendant …
it was ME on the other end, you see
as our unspoken bond had become a very
vital electronic one …
I didn’t give that button much thought, really
until one night I was putting her to bed
and she grabbed my arm with one hand,
grasped her call disc with the other,
looked deep into my gaze
and said to me …
“I always keep this close to my heart,
because I know that whenever I press it,
my angel … will come”
now …
those little hands are but memory
(tho I held them ‘til the warmth was gone
then lay them upon her) …
but I keep that buzzer near me
for it means so much more than I can express
and sometimes I press it,
(as silly as that may seem)
sometimes I press it … and pray -
I pray even harder than I prayed when
I was faithful …
but nothing happens
there is no sound
and no one ever comes
for SHE was the angel …
and I …
was the needy one.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, March 18, 2024
( photograph taken by Gregory R Barden )
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