I Miss My Mother Poem by Maja Dezulovic

I

I miss excitedly running to the kitchen
at 7 a.m.
to make her tea
and say good morning.

I miss long nights of endless chatter
laughter
and sharing thoughts
startling ourselves upon realising
how many hours had passed.

I miss her naming my puppy,
and thinking that
maybe one day
she can name my child too.

I miss buying her cards, flowers, dresses, anything...
Seeing her eyes sparkle in knowing that I took the time
to care for her.

I miss her daily soap opera routine,
and her obsessive cleaning.

I miss her annoyingly catchy
choice of 80s R&B music,
songs of love
and love, and love,
and love.

I miss her when I wear the dress
I know she wore when she had me.

II

I miss singing her the songs
I'd learned in school
so she'd learn to sing them with me
and we'd play together.

I miss pretending to fall asleep
on the couch
so she'd carry me to bed.

I miss her pulling me out the bath when I took too long
scolding me for not brushing my teeth
and patting my afro into shape.

I miss her reading my report out
to everyone who called
and framing each award.

I miss her cherishing every year's
horrible school photograph.

I miss walking home from school
stopping for sweets at the shop
and telling her about my day.

I miss parents' evenings, sports days, school plays, end-of-year assemblies, and graduations,
because I knew
she'd always be there.
I'd wave my hand from the stage
and without a doubt,
from the crowd,
hers would wave back.

I miss the big birthday parties she'd throw
for me
to show everyone
how happy she was that I existed.

I miss opening my lunchbox at school
to find a bit of everything - healthy sandwiches, snacks, juice and fruit.
I miss
pap 'n gravy
soft porridge
and Sunday lunches that were grand even though it was just us at home.

I miss the jealousy I felt
when I thought she was being too motherly
to my friends.

I miss her buying me boys' clothes
when she went shopping
because I refused to wear anything else.

I miss her nursing me to health
and wiping up my throw up
because I knew that only love could make someone
clean up something so disgusting.

III

I miss her voice
reading me books
before bedtime
until I fell asleep.

I miss her teaching me four languages
Tswana through speech
Zulu through listening
English with flashcards and reading
and Afrikaans with homework we'd work on together.

IV

I miss her strong arms
and gentle heart,
her quiet resilience
when insults were hurled at her.

I miss the fights
because although we were angry
at least we were still together.

I miss the passion in her eyes when enraged,
and the forgiveness she sought
without saying a word.

I miss judging her faults
only to see that they're also
my own.

V

I miss Vinolia, Popiki, Suster, Dineo and Masego too,
because every time they helped my mother
they were my mothers too.

VI

I miss her telling me
she never thought she was beautiful
then people told her I looked like her
and since I'm beautiful
she saw that she was beautiful too.

I miss my mother,
but I needn't miss her
because I have her
in my heart
and in my prayers
everyday.
And I will see her soon,
but until that day,
it's difficult not to feel,
and not to say...

I miss my mother.