when he shaved your head in the kitchen, i could only watch the first pass of the clippers, mama.
afterward, you stood and walked to the bathroom...
i've told this story before...
you came out wearing dramatic, dark eye shadow and smiling.
you sat down next to me on the couch and i knew i should mimic you.
i was smiling too.
i said, "mama, you look like annie lennox!"
i wanted to cry so bad.
in my head, she sang, "some things are better left unsaid, but they still turn me inside-out..."
like us smiling, mama, instead of crying
instead of yelling
because we both knew, right then, that you were dying
and i was putting on a brave face
just like you, mama.
just like you.
i get so mad at you sometimes for taking off and dying the way you did.
your little girl and i still need you. us, and your boy too.
the men you chose have added up to nothing. neither one has been a father. neither has been an umbrella. neither has even been a friend.
i put on annie lennox and think of your big lips, mama. i think of you smiling.
i wish you were here tonight to push my hair back from my forehead and tell me it's okay to feel afraid.
i'm getting ready to make some really big changes, some really big decisions. i wish i could talk to you about them. i wish i could hold your hand.
i wish you were here...
because maybe i wouldn't feel 14 years old at 34. maybe i'd feel a bit more solid in this world and in this body. maybe i wouldn't feel so thrown by glances and sighs...
i don't want to be as insecure as i am.
i don't want to be as insecure as you were.
i don't want to give up as easily as you did.
i want to love me more than you ever did, mama.
and that's the plain truth.
i want to love me more than you ever could and i want to love you as a woman, not as my mother.
i want to love you like i love me.
if you were here, i'd hug you so hard and we'd laugh so hard and i wouldn't be awake at midnight listening to annie lennox and writing things like this.