February 25, 2010: 7:53 Pm

i thought too often of calling
and life slipped in and stole
each opportunity
and now the words are gone
"there are no second chances"
i listen to that too much
but it's better than hearing thoughts
of my own
last night, nightmares
my mother trying to tell me something
smiling, standing over a frying pan
every time she began to speak
i yelled at her
struck out
didn't want to hear
what she had to say.
i was afraid to go back to sleep so i sat in the dark
talking to the night.
in the light
for the first time in eight months
my mother's voice
kind, unexpected
and i can't stop shaking
sitting on the floor
held together by nothing more than the knowledge
that people on the other side of the door
need me whole.
93 years.
35.
even consecutively
they would have never been enough.
deep breath
a quick call
a note and i am turning the phone off
and the baby is crying
and the little boy taller than i am can't stop
and i search for some comforting words, some scrap of faith
that someone might have left behind
and the best i can do
is "it's ok to be sad. mommy's sad too"
and that's the most inadequate fucking thing
i've ever heard
and it's all i have to give them.
chicken soup on the stove and i'm out of chicken
so it's really only chicken-flavored soup
but full of vegetables-
i'm still ok-
and there are plenty of crackers
kids are fed and i will eat at some point
laundry folded, put away
cup of chai with a shot of tequila and it's been so long
that the shot is more than enough, along with the lack of sleep
and i tuck in the babies
the smallest one in her great-grandma sweater
over her dinosaur sleeper
kisses all around
hugs, one last glass of water
and then i sit and open the computer
watch the room spin and try to figure out how to say
i want my grandma
i want my grandma
i want her back
and make somebody fucking listen
for once.