The forces of a larger magnitude pluck the mother up
And place her right down beside her daughter
Just an inch back
Just enough to place her hand on her youngest’s back
She remembers patting her back
When she was a newborn baby
Over her shoulder
Before she pulled her hair
In the backpack carrier
Asking are you my mother?
Do you even want to be here?
It was hard to bear that her daughter wanted to be near her
Aren’t I making it worse?
Just by existing here?
In her big Need
She couldn’t understand how much she was needed
She understood today, however
Because her body told her
The bottom of her lung cavity
Filled with air
For the first time in 38 years
It was then that her father died
And just like that, went all her resources
She hadn’t realized that she was holding on to him from way down there
She hadn’t had a breathe of fresh air in years
After the lung-chucking grief
and her never-ending tears
complete
all goes from static to conducted,
the flow of life runs through like a current!
in her awe-some surprise
she widens her eyes
moves proudly in place
behind her daughter
Determined to protect her
She had stayed out front
Facing backwards
Hips forward
Shoulders and gaze backwards
She realizes now
It’s facing fully forwards
That provides the most
For everyone’s secure-yet-surely-doomed future
The daughter can now be rightly responsible
With the feeling of this privileged weight
Comes a rush of tears
A babbling brook, embodied
That will never end
But allows a continual cleanse
Right within her
Sourced endlessly from those who came before her
The patting isn’t a “stop those tears!”
It’s a “keep that tap going now, dear!”
“That’s it!
Let it all out now
I’m not going anywhere.”
The grandmothers are in chorus above, back and down
Singing out and clinking glasses, “oh my goodness, finally!”