Momma

40 years ago today, my mother chose to end her life. Even after all these years, I still miss her. She was often unable to give me what I needed from a mother. But this volatile, moody woman was the same person who taught me how to love Chopin, and musical theater, and poetry, and animals. She gave me the gift of humor that has been such an important part of my survival… and taught me how to laugh with all my being. In acknowledging these gifts, I believe I have finally come full circle. First denial, then pity, then rage… and finally, forgiveness. I know that she was human and flawed, and as an innocent child, I deserved more from my mother. But now I know that she did the best she was able to do, and in spite of everything, I know that my mother loved me with all her heart. She is an eternal part of who I am. I will always love her, and I know now that she will always love me too.

Once there was love
And she would sing to me
About her little girl
Pink and white as peaches and cream
And she would stroke my hair.

Once there were Saturdays
Filled with the sounds of the Metropolitan on the radio
Being lifted above mundane chores
On the magnificent strains of
La Traviata or Butterfly.

Once there were pretty dresses
Each one unique and beautiful
All made with love
By my personal dressmaker and mother
Just for me.

Once there was ballet
The Nutcracker
Second tier
Seeing nothing but the tops of heads
But sharing the wonder.

Once there were concerts
Recitals and musicals
“The Sound of Music,” “Cabaret,” “No No Nannette”
Some of my happiest times
And she was my fan club.

Once there were surprises
Coming home from a week at summer camp
To find my room redecorated
With the door closed
And wrapped like a giant birthday gift.

Once there was love, imperfect and flawed
But strong enough and loud enough
To break through the chaos that was life
And leave me aching to once more hear her song
And feel her stroke my hair.
 

Barbara Ann Angel Wrightson 

11/28/30 - 1/14/76 

I love you so much Momma!