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mexicant

Chula Vista, CA

Member Since 2003

Followers 75 Following 129

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Monday Nov 28, 2011

Nov 28, 2011
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"But please, remember me, my misery, and how it lost me all I wanted" Could that be the reason? Could my constant depression be the reason behind it all? I'll admit that I'm not the easiest to be with but I thought she'd understand. I watched my mother go from a vibrant and happy woman to a living skeleton in the span of a year. I sat by her side while the cancer spread from her breasts to her muscles, from her muscles to her bones, from her bones to her blood, and from her blood to her brain. I watched her fight harder than I've seen anyone fight before... but in the end she lost.

The chemo made her so brittle she ended up breaking both legs, an arm, both hips, shattered her pelvis beyond repair, and had three vertabrea collapse on her. By the end she was soiling herself uncontrolably and stopped recognizing who I was. My own mother didn't know who I was. Do you have any idea what that feels like?

But I sat by her. I helped wash and feed her. I gave her her medications. I did anything I could for her. But in the last moments I was gone. Some nurse came by to bring medical supplies and forgot a few things. Being the good son I went to town to get them. She passed while I was away. My mother died without her son by her side. By the time I got back she had been gone for a while and the priest was performing the last rights.

I have to live knowing I failed to be with her when she passed.

So I've been depressed. Well, more so than usual I should say. But maybe it was the wallowing in it that cost me the only thing left in my world. I wasted an entire year being a lump on a couch. It seems as though my misery brings me nothing but misery. It's quicksand and there's no way out.

****

Please, remember me happily / By the rosebush laughing / With bruises on my chin, the time when we counted every black car passing / Your house beneath the hill / And up until someone caught us in the kitchen / With maps, a mountain range, a piggy bank / A vision too removed to mention

But please, remember me fondly / I heard from someone you're still pretty / And then they went on to say / That the pearly gates / Had some eloquent graffiti / Like "We'll meet again" and "Fuck the man" / And "Tell my mother not to worry" / And angels with their great handshakes / Were always done in such a hurry

And please, remember me that Halloween / Making fools of all the neighbors / Our faces painted white / By midnight, we'd forgotten one another / And when the morning came I was ashamed / Only now it seems so silly / That season left the world and then returned / And now you're lit up by the city

So please, remember me mistakenly / In the window of the tallest tower / Calling passers-by but much too high / To see the empty road at happy hour / Gleam and resonate, just like the gates / Around the holy kingdom / With words like "Lost and found" and "Don't look down" / And "Someone save temptation"

And please, remember me as in the dream / We had as rug-burned babies / Among the fallen trees and fast asleep / Aside the lions and the ladies / That called you what you like and even might / Give a gift for your behavior / A fleeting chance to see a trapeze / Swinger high as any savior

But please, remember me, my misery / And how it lost me all I wanted / Those dogs that love the rain and chasing trains / The colored birds above their running / In circles around the well and where it spells / On the wall behind St. Peter / So bright, on cinder gray, in spray paint / "Who the hell can see forever?"

And please, remember me seldomly / In the car behind the carnival / My hand between your knees, you turned from me / And said, "The trapeze act was wonderful / But never meant to last", the clown that passed / Saw me just come up with anger / When it filled with circus dogs, the parking lot / Had an element of danger

So please, remember me finally / And all my uphill clawing / My dear, but if I make the pearly gates / I'll do my best to make a drawing / Of God and Lucifer, a boy and girl / An angel kissing on a sinner / A monkey and a man, a marching band / All around a frightened trapeze swinger
finch:
you are not a failure. i was the only person in my family who wasn't present when my dad died. and i'm not a failure for it, either. it took me a very, very long time to learn that. some days, i still haven't.
Nov 29, 2011

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