My Love, My Reckoning

A reckoning probably comes at some point in everyone’s life.

Maybe more than one, in fact – maybe two, four or one hundred reckonings.

Maybe some people feel a reckoning every time they open their eyes.

The bereaved, the addicted, the homeless, the soldier, the adulterer, the divorced, the torn asunder.

For whatever reason or state of being.

And, in reality, that segment of the population – that grieving slice of the pie

That’s probably each and every one of us.

For who hasn’t been bereaved or bereft? The predator and the prey? The guilty party at the same time that they are the hapless victim?

From either position, either stance

There is a price to pay, a reckoning that will come and

Stare you in the face.

When I opened my eyes a full week ago now

My reckoning was sitting there on the edge of the bed

Watching me

She stood up when she saw me stir and

Like an attentive mother, she helped me to my feet

Stood behind me and steered me by the shoulders through the kitchen and into the bathroom

And with her soft, warm fingers she held my cheeks in the palms of her hand

And turned my face toward the mirror

Look at yourself, she said

Holding my cheeks a little tighter, though gently still

Lean forward, she said, exhale on the glass

Rub off that spot of toothpaste with the heel of your hand

And take a close look

And then she left

Evaporated as quick as shower steam

But the imprint of her palms is still with me

Still cupping my cheeks

And I’ve been trying hard

Damn hard

To take a close look

Without turning in fear

Without running for the hills

Because it’s hard to stare myself down

Damn hard.

But here I go…I’m looking

and this what I see

To my mother - I’m sorry that your demons chased you to your grave

I’m sorry that I challenged you so recklessly that day in the car when I was a pain-in-the-ass teenager.

I saw the flash of pain in your eyes and I knew, I knew I had hurt you.

But I didn’t apologize because I was too short-sighted, too swept up in my righteousness

I’m sorry you took to the bottle

And found that the bottom was always, always dry

It wasn’t my fault, but I’m sorry anyway

You’re in the rearview now

But you are always walking right there, right there in front of me

To my sister – I’m sorry you worry that the family spool is unraveling

I’m sorry for the weight you shoulder and I wish I could take it from you

Wish I could help you feel a cloud beneath your feet

A breezy, wispy breath of air upon your face

Because I love you, love you with all my heart and soul

To my father – I’m sorry that 3,000 miles separates us

I’m sorry that we don’t share the same coast, the same forests, the same vales

But I love you just the same and you will always be my guidepost

To my ex – I’m sorry that what was once whole is now subdivided

Like rolling farm country split in half by concrete, re-bar and asphalt

What we had was wholesome once, and quite lovely

And I’m sorry that it lays in pieces

Scattered around with me over here and you over there and our children, like ants, furiously trying to figure out how to cross what was once their fertile ground

To my girlfriends – I’m sorry that I often choose my life over yours

That I don’t always pick up your calls in real time

That I let you sit and percolate while I tend to my own affairs  - sometimes for a couple hours, a couple days, even a few weeks at a time

But know that I love you, that I depend on you, that you are my sisters

As true in blood as the sisters who share my name

To my new love – I’m sorry that you’re in pain

That you have your own ghosts that probably aren’t all that different from mine

And that there’s not a goddamned thing I can do about it

Except give you space and time while continuing to love you

Because you are you and you are worth loving and that is enough.

It’s a big leap of faith, but I believe we’re worth it and I’m hanging in there

To my children – I will never, ever apologize for how much I love you. I’ll get it wrong sometimes, but hopefully I will get it right most times. Mothering is a tough gig and it’s not easy to parent. But I’ll parent you because that is the greatest gift I can give you.

And you’ll resent me for it. You’ll dodge me because of it. You might even neglect me because of it. But I love you just the same.

To myself - I’m sorry that I forget to remember you just like I forget to remember my own sisters

I seem to do that a lot…

You know, forget the women who matter most

It’s my weakness

My biggest ghost

My tallest reckoning…the forgotten woman, the expansive woman.

But you’re still there, you’re still breathing.

You, me, I. Sister to myself. Mother to myself.

Still struggling to break the soil

And You succeed sometimes

Nay, You succeed oftentimes

But then a tempest comes along…

A tempest of new experiences

A tempest of love or pain or sadness or grief or overwhelm or responsibility or passion

Or whatever other life event or human-ness overcomes me

And I throw a shovelful of soil on You

Bury You beneath the clay

Because I believe that this tempest, in whatever form it takes, is more important than You

I abandon myself

And I’m awfully sorry about that.

I will do better.

I promise I will

Reckoning told me it could be so

That it must be so

So, Reckoning, keep those hot palm prints of yours on my cheeks

It’s okay, it’s alright

Actually, it’s even good

Kind of painfully exquisite

To feel your stinging heat.

To see you, like my mother, like my sisters,

In the rear view, in the front view, in the side view

Faithfully there, nudging.