I DID some homework too, and then later that night went back out to the living room to watch some TV but it was off. That was unusual in itself. Mom had moved to the kitchen table. Her hair was lit up by the overhead lamp, a glowing red halo over a face fierce with concentration. She was writing something. It looked like a letter. I stood there watching her for a second til she realized I was there. She turned the sheets over quickly but she looked happy to see me.
‘Hey lil darlin’!’ she said, motioning me over. ‘Come make me a cuppa, lovey.’
There was such softness in her voice, my heart responded immediately. I loved when she called me her little darling. I loved when she was sweet to me. I’d do anything for her if she called me a nice name and used that voice. Made me so happy!
‘Ohh, okay!’ I said, and nearly skipped over to the sink, babbling away as I busied myself filling the kettle. ‘Do you want black tea or peppermint, Mom? Are you hungry, too? I can make us some cinnamon toast as well, if you like? Or maybe vegemite toast for dinner, and cinnamon toast for dessert! Hehe! We could have a toast smorgasbord!’ and I started to giggle to myself about making a gourmet toast dinner. ‘I’m like, the Jamie Oliver of toast, Mom! Check it out. I’m gonna make us, like, a toast feast!! We’re gonna have toast canapes, toast entree...’
‘Oh you beautiful thing…’ I heard her say, in a funny, croaky, far-off voice that stopped me in my tracks. I turned around and her eyes were brimming.
She looked almost pretty. Her eyes were bright and luminous. And blue, so blue. I’d forgotten how blue they could be.
‘If I could just see you like this all the time, if I could just really see how beautiful you are, I’d ...’ and she threw up her hands a little, in a tiny, helpless gesture. ‘I have no words,’ she said sadly, but smiling through her tears.
I smiled back at her. The strange baby feeling in my belly was there. It was hurting, too. I felt very peaceful though. I didn’t know what to say, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t understand what she was trying to say, but I could feel her heart reaching out to mine. She wanted to say sorry.
Some words bubbled up through me. ‘It’s okay Mom. You do great.’
That seemed to have the opposite effect of what I was going for though, and the tears started cascading down her cheeks like a river.
But I let her cry. I didn’t feel like stopping her. I felt that strange sense of time slowing down again, like when I’d made tea that other time. It was nice. She looked beautiful. Even though her face was all screwed up and messy, she was my Mom and she looked beautiful. I loved her very much.
I felt moved to go and put my arm around her where she sat. She pulled me in to her, and with her arms hugging me fiercely round the waist and her face in my belly, she cried her guts up. She sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. I could feel the vibrations of her crying go right through my body. And I just held her head and loved her. My poor Mom. I loved her so much.
I had a weird thought - I’m holding my baby, aren’t I?
Yes.
My baby feeling and my Mom were the same thing. I just had to cradle her. Love her. That was all I needed to do, right?
Yes.
So that’s what I did.
