This is late for Mother’s Day I know, but the words are for my mother nonetheless. This is part of a series of flash fiction pieces I’m working on. I hope you enjoy it Mom.
Empathy – A truth
by H.E.EiglerI had no idea she could be struck down like any other person, any normal
person with susceptible flesh and organs apt to fail. I always thought she
was made of stone, strong, fearless and willing to stand no matter what.
When I was young there was no excuse for staying home from school. ‘I
could make it through’ she would say. She taught me that it was important
for me to make my own living, to be self-sufficient, to be tough.I hardly ever saw her cry. Not when her good friend had
breast cancer. Not when she moved over and over and over away from her
homes. Not when her youngest daughter pokes herself half a dozen times a
day with insulin shots.I cry though, I can’t help it. I feel
ashamed and weak and angry when it happens. Movies, literature, visiting
the SPCA even brings me to tears.There was one time,
though, when I saw her cry. It was when we lived in the duplex on the dead
end road. It was that dusky time just after dinner and we had been calling
the cat in when the doorbell rang. She answered it and I knew what had
happened. Our neighbour was holding the cat in his arms.“We heard you calling,” he said, “it came out of nowhere,” he
said, “I thought you would like to know, to bury it.”We all cried
that day. He was such a nice cat, and comical with his cow print black and
white fur. My father and I wrapped him in his favourite blanket and buried
him in a shallow hole beside a road near the dump. I don’t think we buried
him deep enough, a dog could have gotten at him but we were both too upset to
dig any deeper and it had gotten dark.When I visited her in
the hospital she was pale from her surgery. Her uterus was gone and she
didn’t look herself. Pale, tired and sad wasn’t who my Mom really
was. I knew she looked afraid but I wasn’t really sure what that
meant. I didn’t know what to do to make it better. I brought her
flowers, but I really wanted to stand her up, strong and fearless and willing
and as my mom should be. Once I was alone, in my car, I cried for her as
she wouldn’t for herself.
This piece is part of an exercise on emotion that I’m working on. While it does convey the love I have for my mom, it doesn’t revolve around that emotion. So to be perfectly clear and because I’d imagine a mother can never hear it enough times – I love you Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.
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That’s very beautiful. I guess it’s true, life breaks us all.
I really think this would work better as prose.
I think you should tell it, but tell it longer.
Whoops! I just clicked onto “Show orriginal post”, top left.
Aha. Comes out displayed more like prose.
Now we’re getting somewhere. Seems more natural, less like a poem. I guess it’s just a different visual perspective.
I think I’d start with “Mother was…” have the heavy emotionalism more implied than stated, wait for a year and send it somewhere next Mothers Day.
A plain rugged style might do it.
Have the love, emotion, and yes, pity be more implied than stated.
This is hard to do, but I think you can do it, if you want.
….My opinion, anyway.
p.s.:
My reasearch skills are going all to hell, but if you can pick up copy of John Updike’s The Afterlife,there is a story there,”His Mother Inside Him” that features a woman who is dying of cancer.
The author watches her going through the phases of a particular form of cancer; remission then sick again. There does seem, however, more irony than sympathy in the story, but that’s Updikes way.
The Afterlife is available almost anywhere. Updike, of course, is a master of the short story.
Obviously, I am taken wih that kind of narrative: I like Updike, but then so does everybody else, though some feminists accuse him of only the male view :”A penis witth a thesaurus.” But the man is a master and has written great stories of sons who watched their mothers dying of cancer..
I would suggest The Afterlife, and especially the story, His Mother Inside Him.
Hell, I want to steal it!
Beautiful recollection — happy mother’s day to you both!
Heather, it’s wonderful, rich in detail and feeling;
Happy Mother’s Day!
Poignant and beautiful – with unique images and just the right amount emotion. Very moving.
I agree, though, it reads more like a prose piece to me as well.
Thanks for sharing! I found you through Mommyfest – come visit me at http://www.supermomcentral.blogspot.com
- Lauren