Before I Forget
“Honey, I need to tell you something before I forget," Foxy said.
Mom stayed with us more often as the Cancer progressed because I suppose the incessant loving chaos of the girls countered the Chemo fatigue a bit. Per usual, I had bounded upstairs in the morning to check in on her, and now was being pulled back by her words.
Immediately, I turned back around, noticing the small flowered sheets holding her comfortably in the bed, “Yes mama? What is it?”
She looked towards the window and beyond it, and said, “I really love that Magnolia tree. I love waking up and seeing it through the window. I didn’t want to forget to tell you that.”
I turned towards our beloved “Maggie” the Magnolia, a staple that all of my daughters had climbed to the very tip top, and realized my mom wasn’t just looking at that tree. She was honoring the beauty and strength coursing through her branches. She was witnessing Maggie with fresh eyes.
“Oh mom, thank you for telling me.” She nodded in affirmation and fell back into the pillows to rest.
And just like that, the smallest of moments become etched into your heart like love graffiti.
* As Tom and I have been re-doing the upstairs space, I think about this. Mom, I think you would really love what we are doing. I miss you.