A Mother’s Love

Consumed by the grief of my late husband, I lay my head on my mother’s lap. She somehow makes everything better. She was humming that silly song from my 2nd birthday. The one about tea parties under the cherry tree. The gentle swaying of the porch swing reminds me of how she used to rock me back to sleep when I had nightmares. Oh how I wish this was just a nightmare. No one else could provide me this kind of peace during such a tragedy.

While I lay, I try to focus on the blooming spring flowers. However, as I search into the garden for the hope of distraction, neighbors slow as they walk by. No doubt trying to catch a glimpse of the town's newest widow. I turn my head back to my mother’s face, how she is so strong. Afterall, she lost a son in law, yet, she is here pretending everything is alright in order to comfort me. There is nothing quite like a mother’s love, although often misguided, I know she is always here for me.