I'm in a happy place
Black and white photo's
of yore threaten like quicksand to
spirit me away
Every photograph, as if by magic
transports me back
I picture the scene
I smell the smells
I taste the food
I live the life
Doris hovers
Doris lives again
Every breath I take is
Doris
My blood is her
My skin
My bone
My life
She lives on
in me
I've been doing exactly the same this evening and love the couple who were my parents so much, but, being an only child too, I sometimes felt like a little outsider. It's very interesting how I've only just begun to understand what was hidden from me too. Perhaps your story of Doris has made me look at their lives more closely.
ReplyDeleteIt's easy to forget that we are now perceived by our children, exactly the same, as we saw our parents. We now have a greater understanding, brought about by the passage of time and experience. Pity we didn't have an inkling then.
DeleteLLX
My blood my bone my skin she lives in me. I look in the mirror every morning and I weep for her. I touch her photograph. I can't look at the dozens of others that I have to share out to my sisters and brother who didn't stand by her at the end. But they are her blood and bone as well though I am the one who most resembles her. And my daughters. Why is it so hard. She can't slip through my fingers in photos because she lives in my genes and my children and grandchildren. LL - in that way we achieve immortality so be pleased for Doris, and yourself. This was a lovely post. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteTry not to look back with regret... acknowledge with pride, your mother made you the woman you are. Her milk of kindness flows more freely in you. Your sisters and brother have other qualities. Who can predict the throw of the gene dice... not us, certainly.
DeleteLLX