Connie Post: Iron Will
I still see her, standing there
fastening a floral apron
tripping on the cord of her own life
Michael Simms: Love
When I was a child, my mother told me
God has many faces
And She reveals Herself
In many ways.
Ellen Foos: Maternal Instinct
Her dreams were artistic,
not caught up in soap operas.
She was creating a new breed
with crayons, storybooks and blind faith.
Video: Mumford & Sons — “Beloved”
A boy visits his mother in the hospital and imagines a perfect day with her: And as you leave you must know you are belovedAnd as you leave I can … Continue reading
David Huddle: Even Then I knew
for Lisa Fay Coutley Our mother was often desperate because of my brothers and me—once she threw the dish drainer at Charles, slapped the back of Bill’s head so that … Continue reading
Elizabeth Gargano: Why I Chose to Be My Mother’s Caretaker
Living on Human Time When I tell friends and acquaintances that my eighty-nine-year-old mother will be moving in with my husband and me, I get two kinds of stares. One … Continue reading
Majid Naficy: The Signs of My Mother
Oh high moon! What are you waiting for? Follow your path quickly And carry my message to Isfahan From the window of my bedroom. My mother is still awake And … Continue reading
Andrea Hollander: The Before and the After
At the airport terminal the coarse sound of wheeled suitcases, a toddler giggling, running a few feet beyond his father. A brown-haired woman at the kiosk that sells last-minute … Continue reading
Jose Padua: Pulling White Hairs
When I was a child I’d pull the white hairs from my mother’s head. It was a chore like any other—like making my bed in the morning, folding my clothes … Continue reading
