I love you mom
I saw mother laugh for the first time in a very
long time today. she was walking down the road
with the three year old son of a friend when he
suddenly burst out dancing to a song playing
from the radio of a passing car, she threw her
head back and laughed at the sight of it,
and for a moment she appeared like she owned
the universe, like she didn't cry
herself to sleep every night. minutes later, the
sadness was back in her eyes; dark and
foreboding.
Ever since my transition, I have conspired with
nature to communicate with her but when I come
as the wind, she shuts the windows. when I
come as the sun, she closes the doors. when I
come as a storm, she locks herself inside, and
when I come as the rainbow, she doesn't look
up.
The fact that she does not believe in ghosts, well
except the holy ghost, makes communicating
with her complex,
and even more complex is the fact that she does
not believe my passing on , "no no no", she
clucks at anyone who tries to tell her otherwise;
"my son is in amelika and he's coming back
soon, he promised he will come back and carry
me on a aeloplane to harry-zona". every morning
she makes eba and afang soup and puts it in the
cooler just in case I show up.
In the nighttime, I float through the streets I
walked on as a living being and visit the homes
of all the people I loved; I kiss adora on her
forehead and read her poetry through her
dreams, I uncrease the worry lines on my
brother's face and put little rays of sunshine in
his pocket, I put my ears to my son Joseph's heart and
listen to his heartbeat because hearing it is the
closest I get to feeling alive again, and finally I
visit mother's bedside and try to dry her tears,
telling her she was the best thing to happen to
me while I was alive and even death has not
reduced an ounce of my love for her.
she rolls over and fiddles her rosary while
praying for me to come back.
I keep hoping one day she'll realize I never left her and if she looks closely at dawn, she'll see my footprints in the morning dew and if she listens carefully at dusk,
she'll hear my voice in the wind whispering over
and over again: "I love you mom, I love you
mom, I love you mom...."