If I Still Had My Mother...


If I still had my mother I’d call her “mommy” and give her a running hug every time I saw her because even though I’m 16, I’m still that little girl who refused to cross the street without holding her mom’s hand. There is hurt and danger in this world, believe me, I’ve witnessed it first hand and there’s nothing more powerful than watching the one you love be ripped away from you. There are scary monsters under my bed and in my closet but her voice is the only thing that kept them from scaring me. And I know that the moment of calm before every storm is her way of telling me “Hey, I’m still here to keep those vicious things away from my baby.”

She’ll watch me graduate high school and help me pack my bags for college while crying over finding my old Barney stuffed animal all the way in the back of my closet behind dusty memories and forgotten youth, kiss away all my heartbreak while letting me curl up next to her on the couch as we watch Criminal Minds because boys come and go but my mother will always stay. And even though she’ll use her scarred hands to try to catch all my pain, some will slip through. I’ll teach her that there’s just too much hate in this world for her to face alone and that’s when I’ll stand up next to her ready for war.

She put the beauty in beginning and the heartache in ending. “You win some,” she’ll say, “but you lose some too.” And even though we had a losing battle, we didn’t have a lost cause. Life kicked her down, again and again and again. With refusal in her eyes she got right back up and faced this ugly thing we call life.  

She was as a delicate as a sunburn, as powerful as the wind and as wise as the ocean who’s been around for thousands and thousands of years. “Life’s a lot harder when you’re 15 than when you’re 5, sweetie.” “But it’s the same life?” I’ll question. I never quite understood until now what she was trying to warn me about. Life threw cynicism and hatred at her. It handed her beating after beating but she never refused to stop smiling.

She’s gonna realize that it’s okay to be weak in front of me cause god knows she’s not strong enough for the both of us. And I don’t blame her for giving up in the end, she was trapped in this world with shackles and armed guards’ watching her around the clock, giving up was the only way to be free. If I still had my mother, I’d let her know that I love her and most of all I forgive her.

Guide that inspired this poem: 



This was written for my mom who passed away from cancer in October of 2009. I was in 7th grade when it happened.

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