I was outside literally two minutes or less, finally finished, I made my way to the spot I sit and watch the blue cool pool water paint patterns on my feet.
I’d been cleaning like crazy, Friday night instead of Saturday morning.
I was raised that way.
On Saturday morning, nothing happened until we cleaned.
My mama handed out assignments and by noon you’d have thought our house on the poor side of town was tucked away behind stately gates.
I adhere to her pattern, my daughter and son do too. We like things straight.
We like our places put together and pretty.
Now, it’s morning and I have Saturday’s day about to unfold. I’ve been awakened by a text, “You up?”
“In bed, awake”, my reply.
“Get ready.” her instruction.
Last night I tried to remember my mama’s particular words and I couldn’t. I tried to bring to mind her philosophical response, fashioned in blunt reply.
What I miss most of all are Saturday morning calls, coaxing me not worry…to let these two be, to know that they are good.
I can’t recall what it was, the thing I said just like her. I wanted to remember, tried so very hard.
I had to let it go hoping it comes back when I least expect.
Because last night, I sat in my spot, magazine by my side with a splash of wine in pretty glass. Relax, Lisa Anne.
Don’t stress. Let it be. Pick your battles. It’ll be fine. The truth always comes out and again, stress’ll kill you.
Momentarily, I heard the sound.
The arrival, I was ready.
Closer to me, at just the right time, I tilt my eyes towards heaven, and there are three.
The geese, the geese.
Mama always said, “Here they come.”
And yes, they did.
Happy Mother’s Day tomorrow in heaven. I’ll keep looking for you, mama, in my every single thing.
I’ll be listening for your reply.