I dreamt about holding my mom while she ugly cried. About her letting tears roll in ugly sobs. Of holding her & stroking her hair while she shoke with each painful breath. Of her feeling so small & helpless in my arms. I couldn’t calm your fears.
Before that we were in the kitchen after a big meal I was late too. Everyone clinking glasses & merry. I chewed hubba bubba gum too big for my mouth. My words were awkward around the slippery mass. You didn’t mind. You picked me up by the thighs & carried me up the many flights of stairs. You told me that you loved me & always will while you set me on top of cabinet 6 ft high. I was skeptical that you meant any of it, but your words were so velvety rich & reassuring. Resting your hand on my knee we talked for longer than it seemed. I got gum stuck in your hair which shone redder than usual in the bedroom light. As I carefully & tenderly groomed the pieces from your hair I knew you meant these promises this time.We talked about how living at home is weird, and the state of the job market. About family & music, old friends & new ones. You’re reassuring gaze never leaving mine.
Just as I let my gaurd down & placed my trust back in your hands, mom came to call me subtly distraught to the other room. As you waved from the bottom of the stairs I had no idea that I would not see you again.