Letter #2

Mom do you remember when I was in my early 20’s and I foolishly wrote a letter detailing all your faults, downfalls, and failures in my childhood? I had read somewhere that you were supposed to write out all the hateful things you wanted to say, and then burn the letter. I didn’t burn mine I sent it. Effectively breaking both our hearts in one incredibly immature gesture. It took years to heal the damage I had done, and years to forgive myself for it even after you had. Now over a decade later this challenge took me back to that moment, pouring out my heart to my mother once again. This time with the wisdom of age, and the grace of perspective, acknowledging that all the parts I love about myself, were the best parts of you. I had intended it to be funny, I wanted to make you laugh, bring back happy memories, inside jokes, and family secrets. I didn’t intend to ugly cry into a handful of paper towels, rubbing gritty eyes so that I could see the screen and find a rhyme for cycle (I couldn’t). But we did break cycles mom, so many of them, and I am breaking this one too. Writing you a new letter, full of new words, and I know that you’re going to cry like I am crying, so I don’t want to send it to you. I confess I don’t want to be the reason you cry today, even if I know they will be proud, happy tears. So, I am sending it to the world instead, to take the edge off, and then one day soon, I’ll share it with you, and we’ll cry together.

Hey, Mom I have a secret

A confession to share

Sheepishly I admit

It’s been no burden to bear

I talk to strangers

I know all the bad words

There’s a chance I don’t wear sunblock

Depends on what you’ve heard

My home is always open

To anyone in need

and I’ve discovered there’s no limit

to how many mouths you can feed

I can sew, and clean, and cook

All things you taught me to do

I forget my drinks around the house

My biscuits are grandma’s too

I’ve stopped washing ziplocks

And the pink dishes stay packed

Peachy keen still slips out

‘Make a picture’ is starting a comeback

I still pray over meals

And life, and friends and jobs

Cook with butter and bacon fat

And splurge on corn on the cob

There are a dozen ways I see you

From the mirror to the kitchen sink

A thousand ways you’ve shown me

To love and live and think

Of all that you’ve passed down

I confess I’ve never shared

The secrets that you taught me

Have left me well prepared

I could tell you that your legacy

Will be in the hospitality and the meals

The southern charm and open arms

And all the family feels

But if I’ve never told you

If I’ve never called to say

The greatest gift you gave me

Was teaching me to pray

Showing me the strength in kindness

That Words have power too

That we can’t fix everybody

we can only do the best that we can do

That things in life may get you down

you’ll meet people that make you cry

That doesn’t change who you are

You always have to try

I confess I never thought to tell you

that it took me years to see

that all the best of you

is all the best of me

You have always held me up

You have always had my back

There was never any doubt

There was never any lack

When things were good

When times were tough

You have never let me down

You have always been enough