I laughed a lot today. The day was nice, it was quiet and simple and Minnesota in Nature. Home, in a home. I feel very at home in other people’s homes. And then your mom asked me,
"where is she?"
And it rung around in my chest like a doorbell. A home stale with vacancy- the ominous sound of a leaky pipe. A house that hadn’t had visitors in a while. I felt myself creep up from the basement, and explain to your mom. And in that, the little girl, the basement girl, the one underfed and underdressed, saw the sun for the first time in months.
"where is she?"
And I would give anything, anything, to wake up one morning, walk down the stairs, and see her starting the coffee. What I wouldn’t give to sit with her at the table and talk, again. See her stirring a pan of eggs, or washing her hands adorned with silver rings. To touch her hands, again. To see her curls pushed back with a clip, or the spoon she used to always leave on the counter after stirring her coffee.
Every morning on the way to the bus stop, I used to sit in the passenger seat with my coffee and listen to the sounds of her listening to MPR. I still hear the jingling intro in my head. She always had a million bags. A million things- her coffee splashing along her fingers. And after a while she would ask me to pick the music. She wanted to know everything about me. What I loved and why. She had an ability to empathize and understand the path in which any person’s mind took to come to a conclusion. She never asked for an explanation, she understood me. She could understand, anyone.
She was all ears, always. She loved everyone. And I was so much like her. So so much like her. She left, and I have been gone since. Just as she has. A chameleon soul, I can exist anywhere because anywhere else is easier than trying to live in the place she left.
When she left, she took with her the only person in the world who has ever understood me. She was my mother, and I was her daughter. And now I only know how to be no one’s. But everyone’s at the same time. I am a stranger, here.
So ‘where is she?”
I don’t know, but thank you for asking because no one knows how to, and I’m dying a little.